Ginny Weasley and the Riddle Diary
by Starwin
Summary: A dark plot has been set in motion at Hogwarts. Someone is trying very hard to kill Harry Potter. And that someone, is Ginny Weasley. Live the story through a different point of view. See the Chamber of Secrets from the eyes of Ginny Weasley.
1. The Boy with the Secret Name

Ginny Weasley and the Riddle Diary

By Starwin

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><p>Authors Notes (forward)<p>

First, before we get started I would like to take this moment to thank JKR. Without her, this story would not exist. This world of Harry Potter would not exist. We are truly lucky that she found the strength to pen such a fantastic universe. And even luckier that she has permitted the fan community to write about it in our own way.

What you are about to read is the other side of the story in "The Chamber of Secrets", from the perspective of Ginny (as though the title was not a giveaway) and Voldemort. It is as close to the cannon as I can make it, with small liberties (many derived from fan speculation).

Due to the nature of this story some scenes from CoS are recreated. Dialog is verbatim, but the scenes themselves are different, due to a different perspective on them. In short, I have tried to make it as similar to CoS and as different as I can.

Ever since I finished CoS, I have always had this sideways picture of what Ginny really went through. Well here it is, I hope you enjoy!

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><p>Chapter 1 – The Boy with the Secret Name<p>

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><p>Tom Riddle was an unusual boy, although he did not look it. He had short, tidy black hair and a handsome face. He was not tall, not short, but simply, average. He dressed much like the other children around him, in a gray and black school uniform. And he attended classes, just like other students.<p>

Anyone who saw him or talked to him or listened to him would not find Tom any different from any other child. Because that was the whole point. He strived to blend in. He worked exceptionally hard to appear only slightly better, even though he was far more gifted then most.

It was not his looks, his words nor his actions that made Tom Riddle unusual. It was the plain and simple fact that he, could do magic. For Tom Riddle was a wizard.

For most of his life he had not known this simple truth about himself. He had of course figured out that he was different from other children, gifted with something he could not define. But a wizard, he had never considered that.

Wizards were myths, fairytales, fiction for books and movies. Yet, every time he looked back at the facts, Tom Riddle could not help but wonder how he had ignored the obvious for so long.

Tom had learned that he was a wizard when a man arrived at the orphanage where he lived. He had told Tom Riddle that he was special, that his gifts were really magic. And the man knew other things beyond the fact Tom was a wizard. He knew things that were impossible.

His name was Dumbledore and he was a professor from a secret school called Hogwarts. This school was not a normal school because at Hogwarts they trained witches and wizards how to use magic. Tom had not believed him, he had demanded that this old man tell him the truth, the way he had made the other orphans tell him so many times. They had always obeyed this command, but Dumbledore had not.

His gifts seemed to have no effect what-so-ever. It had peaked Tom's interest. He had to know. He had to be sure this man was telling the truth.

So Dumbledore showed Tom a trick. Using magic he exposed Tom's secret thefts, his prizes from the other children in the orphanage. He had used a spell to make the wardrobe, where Tom kept them, burn with flame. Tom had not been afraid, he was never afraid. The truth of what he had seen only made him hunger for the power behind it.

In his moment of excitement about what mysteries lay before him Tom had let slip a valuable secret. He had not meant too, but he craved to know more and the man had offered him so little. He had thought that if he traded one of his greatest secrets the man would in turn give one of his own.

"I can speak to snakes," Tom had said proudly. The man paused and gave him an odd look. A look, that Tom did not like. "I found out when we've been to the country on trips—they find me, they whisper to me. Is that normal for a wizard?

"It is unusual but not unheard of," the man had responded. But no more than that.

Then he left, like everyone always did. Tom preferred it that way, he worked better alone. He had never had anyone he could trust, and this man was no different. Friends and trust were weakness. He would never put trust in anyone other then himself ever again.

Tom had worked hard, very hard, harder than any student that had ever come before him, so that he would never have to trust another human. For six years he had studied in secret, he had learned things that not even his teachers knew. He had learned things that no one knew. Finally, his work had been rewarded in his discoveries.

How could he possibly have known what lay before him all those years ago? The things he alone was meant to discover. The things he alone, would accomplish. For the first time in his life, Tom had the power to take his destiny into his own hands. Tonight, he would take the first step in securing his future.

Tom strode down the corridors of his school, the castle known as Hogwarts. It was a school for the magically gifted. It was a place where wizarding children came to learn the ways of magic. They thought of it as their second home, as a place they knew well and were safe. But all of them were wrong.

It was his castle. He alone had learned all of its secrets. He alone knew its true purpose. Now he could go where he pleased, do what he pleased and no one could stop him.

However, there was no need to exercise such authority just yet. Those around him did not suspect what he had in store for them. Sure, some of them, especially the mudblooded filth, feared the things he had set in motion, but they did not fear him, they did not know him. For now, that was the way he liked it.

They only knew the face he presented. The slightly handsome, innocent face, so usually accompanied by a warm smile that never reached his eyes. It was the mask he wore for the others and they bought it, without a second thought. The blind are easy to fool when they cannot see the snake hiding in plain sight.

Tonight he would discard his mask. Once the deed was done he would no longer have to hide his secret name. After tonight this school would be his! Its filth would be scrubbed clean from its halls. The taint of those impostors that dared call themselves wizard would be eradicated like the pests they were.

Tom did not quicken his pace towards his destination. He was in no hurry, his plans did not require speed, simply force of will. After all, one did not rush to their destiny, they moved to it with confidence and certainty. He knew with every fiber of his being that tonight would be the night he would close his fingers around the reins of immortality.

This passageway was empty for the moment, most of the other students were having dinner. No one would see him. No one would know it was too late, until it was.

He had planned everything. He had set it all in motion. All it had taken was a single whispered word in the right ear. The power of a single word.

He checked once again that everything was in order. The simple leather book was in his pocket. His wand hung loosely at his side. And he could clearly recall the ritual of the spell he needed to cast. All that remained now was the deed and the sacrifice needed to perform it.

Tom stopped at a wooden door halfway down the hall. The sign on the door indicated that it was a girl's restroom. Tom pushed open the door very slightly and the sweetest sound he'd ever heard greeted his ears, someone was crying. The sobs were high pitched and slobbery.

All to plan, Tom thought as he pushed open the door. He had come into this restroom many times, but never for its intended purpose. The first time he had been in awe of its splendor, its simplicity. Each visit he had learned much and more.

But this visit he had not come to learn. He had not come to talk. He had come for its true purpose, its secret purpose. To kill.

This restroom, that looked so similar to many others in the school, concealed a hidden truth. A dark and terrible secret, long hidden in plain sight. There was an entrance to a sealed-off chamber in this restroom. A chamber where Tom had spent many days devising his plans.

Tonight, he would use its greatest power of all, an ancient living weapon. The Chamber of Secrets was home to a monstrous snake that could kill with a single gaze. It would look upon the filth that huddled, crying in the stall at the end and she would look back, and she would die.

It wasn't even that he hated the girl he was about to murder. In truth he knew very little about her, other than she was a Mudblood and easily manipulated. He needed her sacrifice for his plan.

With a few quick steps Tom crossed the entryway and moved to the large, dirty, row of sinks that stood in the center of the bathroom. He ran his hand along the copper tap of the sink. His fingers brushed against the engraved snake, concealed on the knob.

Tom took a deep breath. He was ready, the spell firm in his mind, his intent clear. He called forth the great beast that waited below.

His words came out strange, not words at all really but a sort of hissing sound. The hiss lingered in the air for a moment before an almost silent hiss returned his own. The beast was coming, it had heard his call.

"Who is that!" cried a voice from the end stall. The sobs had not stopped completely, but the angry words lingered in the air. Tom's eyes flicked towards the sound, but his face showed no expression.

"Who is there!" demanded the female voice again. "You sound like a boy! This is the girl's bathroom." The stall door swung open and a black haired, slightly chubby girl emerged.

"Tom…" she whispered. She had obviously not expected to find Tom Riddle glaring at her, for she looked truly surprised, perhaps, even frightened.

The creak of stone behind Tom indicated that his monster had arrived, that it was ready to do his bidding, that it was ready to kill for him. And he was ready too.

"My name," said Tom very quietly. The girls eyes shifted a little, focusing on the rising shaped behind the boy. Her mouth opened slightly. "Is Lord Voldemort."

Before she could speak another word or even acknowledge that she had heard him, she froze. There was an expression of utter terror on her face and then, without a sound, she slumped to the ground, motionless and still.

Voldemort knew she was dead. Though he had not lifted a finger to do it, her death was his doing, his intent, and that was all that mattered in the end. This single act was enough to put his spell in motion. All of the books he'd read, all of the preparations he'd done had not prepared him for the reality of murder.

A slight smile parted his lips and this time, something in his eyes flashed red with delight. If this was all it took to accomplish his goals, it would be easy. Life was even more fragile than he had guessed which made this task even more important.

Reaching into the pockets of his robes Voldemort withdrew a small black leather book. It was muggle made, a diary, meant to keep a written record of ones life over the pointless days.

However, Voldemort had never used it for that purpose. He had spent a good deal of the summer and much of the school year writing in the book. But it had not been tid-bits about his day.

Voldemort had made it much more than a simple record. He had chronicled his life in exquisite detail within its pages. Each page filled with words and images and symbols. This was more than a simple book, it was a part of him.

Almost haphazardly, he tossed the book onto the body of the lifeless girl. It landed on her with a soft thud before bouncing onto the stone floor.

All he had to do now, was wait. He had already cast the spell upon himself, using a stolen school wand. After the spell had been complete, he had snapped and burned the wand, least it betray him in his secrets.

The seconds crept painfully by. He was not anxious. He knew he had cast the spell correctly and he would not let doubt find its way into him.

His patience was rewarded. Silver-white light began to roll off his body like mist. It crept out along the floor, stretching like tendrils towards the lifeless body. The smoky white fog drove through her as if she wasn't there, before wrapping itself around the book and lifting it slightly into the air.

Lord Voldemort braced himself. The books had warned him that there would be pain. At first it was just a little tug, no more painful then a band-aid being pulled away slowly. Then he could feel the spell tearing at the deepest part of him, ripping him open.

It was painful, but he did not wince, nor did he cry out. Quite the opposite, his face was split with an insane grin of twisted enjoyment at his own mutilation. This pain was good.

And then, it tore him. No amount of reading or preparation could have prepared him for what it felt like to lose a part of his soul. His face contorted with agony and… fear. This felt like death!

For the briefest of moments, he was Tom Riddle again, a sixth year student, a child. Then Lord Voldemort stamped him out. His scream of anguish became a roar of triumph.

A deafening roar like an angry beast erupted from the book, echoing Voldemort's own. The mists had completely entwined the book, forming a strange sort of chain from book, to dead body, to Voldemort. The tendrils of mist constricted around the book, pulling taunt against Voldemort. Then the book burst into white hot flames.

The air in the bathroom began to turn and whirl so that Voldemort's robes flapped wildly around him. The covers of the book flew open and the pages flipped on their own, not turned by the magical wind. The black ink scrawls burned from each page as it flipped past, the words and symbols consumed by the flames.

Voldemort's eyes watched the book intently. He did not blink nor look away. He did not want to miss even one moment of this fantastic sight. He had done it. _He_, had done it!

Then, as quickly as it had begun, the wind died. The book closed, all its pages having been flipped through. The room became eerily silent save for the dripping of water.

Voldemort reached down with trembling hands, excitement in his eyes, and lifted the black book from the corpse of the girl. He opened its completely blank pages and waited.

He did not have to wait long. Ink began to bleed from the empty page, one simple line in his own hand writing appeared. "It worked."

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><p>Authors Notes (regular)<p>

Thank you everyone for taking the time to come and read my work! I hope you enjoyed it!

Now, some of you might be thinking, wait a minute? Didn't you say this story was about Ginny Weasley? She isn't even in this chapter! Yes I did, and no she isn't. I also said this story was about Ginny and Voldemort! And the title actually refers to them both!

This story has been in production for more than ten years! Well, kind of. It's always been something I wanted to write, even before I knew that there was such a thing as fanfiction. I've been actually writing it on-and-off for more like two years now.

Its had lots of different starting points, but ultimately I thought we should start here, with Tom Riddle. After all, he is at the heart of this mess.

Next chapter in two weeks (Monday December 26th!). And every chapter to follow every two weeks until we are done.

I hope you come back for more, this party is just getting started!

~Starwin


	2. Empty Pages

Ginny Weasley and the Riddle Diary

By Starwin

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><p>Chapter 2 – Empty Pages<p>

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><p>The town of Ottery St. Catchpole was surrounded by low hills and weedy fields. On the southern side of the town was the River Otter, a wide slow moving flow of icy cold water that often overflowed its banks during heavy rains and turned the lands to marsh. The town was small, quiet and no larger than a few blocks in size, with barely half a dozen shops and only twice as many homes.<p>

In the center of town a single signal glowed red in one direction and green in another. Slowly, the signal changed from green to yellow and finally red. A moment later, the light that had been red turned green. No one was awake to see it.

In the very early hours of the morning only the single signal and the lamps spilled light out onto the dark streets. If not for them the town would have been invisible in the shadows of the night.

Far out of town, beyond the reach of the lights, across the churning waters of the river and over a small hill, stood a rickety house. It swayed slightly back and forth in the breeze. All of its windows were dark. Unlike the nearby town there were no streetlamps here. Only the starlight above revealed the home below.

On the third floor of the swaying house, through a small window, a young girl tossed restlessly in her bed. Countless freckles dotted her pale skin and her hair was the color of bright fire. Her name was Ginny Weasley

Ginny was really more of a nickname, her actual name was Ginerva, but only a few people ever called her that. It wasn't that she disliked her name, she just preferred Ginny. Her older brothers, of whom she had six, liked to poked fun at her name.

As if having an unusual name wasn't strange enough, Ginny was not like other girls. She was short for her age, but that was not what made her strange. Her hair was vivid red, just like all her family, although that was not what made her unusual either. Ginny Weasley, was a witch!

She could do magic, make spells and mix potions! Or at least she would one day. For the moment, she was a witch only in name. But that would soon change.

Last week she had turned eleven, the magical age, as it were. When a young witch or wizard turned eleven they were permitted their very first wand. Not only a symbol of their entrance into the magical community but also a powerful tool for casting and controlling the powers of magic.

A wand was an instrument through which magic was channeled and controlled. At school, she would learn how to use that wand, and how to control her gifts.

Eleven also had another surprise to go along with it, admittance into a school of magic! For Ginny this meant that she would at long last be able to attend Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. There she would learn the secrets of magic! There she would become a proper witch!

Despite growing up in an all wizarding family, Ginny actually knew very little about being a witch. Young, untrained witches and wizards, were susceptible to bouts of accidental magic, which could be very dangerous. Using magic and controlling magic, were very different things.

Even though Ginny didn't know how to do magic properly, that didn't mean she had never done it. Her temper was as fiery as her red hair. When she was angry, her brothers were often both the cause and the target of her uncontrolled spells. She could make bad things happen to people who annoyed her.

Ginny continued to toss back and forth in her bed. Twisted blankets tangled around her legs. Her feet struggled with the covers, trying to kick free, but the sleep driven effort only seemed to ensnare her further.

Her body was damp with sweat. Her eyes were clenched tight as if trying not to see the images that played out behind her lids. A hand flew up and clawed at the air as if fighting a ghost. The other hand came up shielding her face from the invisible attacker.

"No," Ginny whispered before shouting. "No!" She gasped as her eyes snapped open. For a moment she sat motionless, searching the uncomfortable darkness around her for the lingering traces of her nightmares.

However, she was quite alone. Only her uneven breathing rasped in the empty room. Slowly, she forced herself to calm. After a long while she lay still, as if she had simply drifted back to sleep. But, Ginny had not gone back to sleep. She was now wide awake, still frightened by the unsettling dream.

The nightmare had been about a boy, a handsome boy, with dark hair. He'd had some kind of plan that involved killing people and… his name… his name… it was on the tip of her tongue… it had been a secret name… one she shouldn't ever speak. She couldn't remember the name.

Already the dream was fading from her thoughts. The girl rolled to her side, looking out the window into the star filled sky beyond the glass. Then her gaze slid down to the wand on the nightstand at her bedside.

The stick was slender, black and beautiful. Ginny rested a hand on the cool wood, reassuring herself that the wand was real and not apart of her dream. It was real. She finally had a wand of her own.

Sliding out of bed Ginny fumbled with the oil lamp for a moment before a flame lit inside it. Warm yellow light illuminated the small bed room in dancing shadows. The room was simple, with a small desk in front of a small window. There was a small comfy bed against the far wall, next to the worn wooden door, and a beat-up chest-of-drawers. The floor was an uneven mess littered with objects of all shapes and sorts. Her mother had insisted, several times, that she clean it. Ginny had not.

Most of the things on the floor were clothing. Buried in the mishmash was a third-hand cauldron, a slightly used set of potion making supplies and one small pile of unopened books. Ginny had hardly looked at any of it. Her parents loved her very much, but love did not buy food, or clothing, or new books, or unused potion ingredients. There was no easy way to put it, her family was poor.

This fact about her family had never bothered Ginny quite as much as it bothered her older brothers. After all, she was the youngest Weasley and everything she got was a hand-me-down. Her bed, her desk, even her room, which had once belonged to her oldest brother Bill, had come from someone else, and in most cases, someone who'd had it before them.

The only new things she had received from their shopping trip in Diagon Alley were her wand, which she had begged and insisted upon, and a set of books. In the end, her mother had agreed to buy Ginny a brand new wand instead of a previously owned one, like her brother Ron had. She had traded up both birthday and Christmas presents for it, but it was worth it. A wand was something special, something that would be a part of her. She didn't want it to be a part of someone else first.

The wand was dark, shiny black, made of Hazel and 15 and quarter inches long. It was fairly rigid, with an intricately inlaid handle in a sort of crisscross pattern. Ginny couldn't be happier with it. She had tried more then thirty different wands in Mr. Ollivander's shop. Some she had held for less than a second, others a full minute passed before he plucked it from her hand and made her try another.

There had been sparks, small explosions and one fire when she had tried a gnarled old oak wand. But nothing had seemed to fit her. Ginny had started to become disheartened. What if the only wand she could ever use had to be pre-owned, just like everything else? Or worse, what if she was never meant to become a proper witch at all? What if no wand would ever accept her?

After some muttering to himself, Mr. Ollivander had vanished into the depths of his shop. He was gone for what seemed like ages and Ginny worried that he had just abandon them. Then there was a crash and a loud bang. When he returned he was smoldering slightly.

"I think this might be the match we have been searching for Miss Weasley," Mr. Ollivander had said, holding out a long dusty white box. The corners of the box were worn with age. For one horrible moment Ginny envisioned a used, beaten, twig of splintered wood inside. However, when the cover was removed she found that her visions of the wand within couldn't have been further from the truth. The wand looked brand new. It had been so highly polished that she could see her own distorted reflection in the black wood.

Mr. Ollivander's eyes had been sparkling when he drew out the wand and handed it to her. Instantly, Ginny felt a connection with the magical instrument the moment she touched it. It was an indescribable feeling of completeness that no other wand had come close to fulfilling.

The wand had blazed red with fire, but it did not hurt her hands, nor, thankfully, did it set anything else in the shop to burning. However, her heart had sunk when Mr. Ollivander informed her that the wand would be fifteen galleons. Her mother looked stunned by the purposed price and Ginny already knew her answer. Five, even seven would have been what she had expected, but fifteen? Ginny had thought her mother would refuse outright, but much to her surprise, after a quick bit of haggling the wand price settled at eight galleons and four silver sickles.

"That is a very special wand," Mr. Ollivander had told her once her mother paid him. "Dragon heartstring and unicorn hair are the majority of wand cores I use in my craft. But only a rare few are made with the feather of a phoenix and only one has ever received a black feather. Your Wand, Ms. Weasley."

Ginny had replied that she did not know that there were any black phoenixes.

"There are not," Mr. Ollivander had answered. "When a phoenix dies and is not reborn, it turns black and becomes hard as stone. Muggles call it obsidian. The feather in that wand was the last that particular Phoenix ever gave. I plucked the feather right before the bird's final death."

Ginny had felt slightly ill, but Mr. Ollivander had simply smiled. She had been very grateful to escape his shop.

Carefully she turned her wand over in her hand as the memory faded away. Mr. Ollivander's words still bothered her. Yet she couldn't help feeling exhilarated by her wand.

Her mind began to wander to the other events of the day and her eyes traveled to the only other new items she had received. A very expensive set of Gilderoy Lockhart books. Altogether, those books were worth two, maybe even three times the cost of her wand. They too would have come to her used and battered had they not been a sort of gift from her older brother's friend.

Her brother Ronald, or Ron as he preferred to be called, had managed, against all odds, to befriend possibly the most famous wizard in the world. That wizard's name was Harry Potter.

He had dark wild black hair and bright green eyes. A pair of badly damaged and often repaired glasses sat on his straight nose. His baggy clothing reminded Ginny of all the hand-me-downs she had been given over the years. But his most striking feature was cut down the center of his forehead, a scar, shaped like a bolt of lightning.

He was currently two floors above her in her brother's bedroom, asleep. For all he had done—surviving an unsurvivable curse when he was just a baby and defeating the most terrible dark wizard of the age, twice—Harry Potter was remarkably humble about it. And, at least Ginny thought, exceptionally handsome.

He had been at their house four weeks now, and Ginny hadn't said even a single word to him. Yet, yesterday she had jumped to Harry's defense as an obnoxious boy by the name of Draco Malfoy insulted him. But her momentary laps in shyness had backfired. Far short of defending Harry she had humiliated him and embroiled her father in an unsightly fist fight.

Ginny hugged her legs to her chest as she sat in bed, her thoughts stuck on the boy named Harry. He was so kind, so nice, yet she was terrified to speak to him. The thought almost made her laugh.

She let out a long breath as she tried to calm herself back to sleep. But it was no good, she simply wasn't tired. Moreover she was still afraid of the dream that lingered at the edge of her thoughts.

Ginny's hand returned to the brand new wand that lay on her nightstand. She had been so excited about the wand that she hadn't bothered to look at anything else. Her eyes turned towards the pile in the middle of her floor. Somewhere, underneath that chaos on her floor were the things she had bought in Diagon Alley. In those things, were the gifts she had gotten from her secret heartache.

Crawling out of bed she got down on her hands and knees, tossing aside the clutter upon her floor. She began to shift through the piles of clothing and books in the glow of the lamp light, searching for the edge of the cauldron that contained the Lockhart books.

Her hands fumbled across the different objects, throwing each aside when it was not what she was searching for. She wished she had taken the time to clean like her mother had asked. At last, after what felt like most of the room had been piled-up elsewhere, her knuckles bumped against cold metal.

Ginny pulled her hand back and shook her wrist, trying to throw off the sharp pain in her slightly bruised fingers. She had found the cauldron that had the Lockhart books in it, the ones that Harry had given her. Well, in truth had dumped into her cauldron and told her she could have, because he didn't want them.

Tenderly Ginny lifted one of the books out. It was halfway out before Ginny realized that the book she was holding couldn't be a Lockhart book. Its cover was old and damaged with age. It was a second-hand book, _A beginners Guide to Transfiguration_.

Glancing down into her cauldron Ginny saw that the next book was _Magical Me_, a sort of biography about Lockhart. A moving image of the dashing Lockhart winked at her and smiled broadly. His golden curls of hair glowed in the light from the oil lamp.

In the world of wizards it was not uncommon for pictures and portraits to move on their own. They were simply shadowy imitations of their real life counterparts, but Ginny felt like it was the real Lockhart smiling up at her. Weakly she smiled back. Her mother was infatuated with Lockhart, although she would never admit to such. Ginny however was not nearly as taken with him. Her thoughts were for someone else, for the person who had given her the books.

She made to set the old transfiguration book aside, but as she did something slid out from between its pages and tumbled into her lap. Placing the transfigurations book on the floor, she reached down into her lap for whatever had fallen out of the old book. Her fingers brushed against a rough, leathery cover.

Picking it up from her lap, Ginny stared at the small black rectangle in the lamp-lit darkness. It was a book of some kind. It looked old and worn and used. There was no title on its front nor its back. In the low light it was hard to tell, but Ginny didn't think that the letters had simply faded away with age. This book had no title and no author.

Casually, Ginny flipped the black leather book open and was surprised to find that its pages contained nothing. They were completely blank! Ginny couldn't believe it. Not only had she gotten an old, used book, but it was empty too! At least she thought it was at first. In the upper corner of each page she could make out the faintest writing.

Ginny moved closer to the lamp. The book wasn't empty. And it wasn't a book either. At last Ginny finally understood what she was holding. This was a diary. The words in the upper corners were days and dates, which she found very odd. She had never seen a diary that used days to track important events. Important usually happened when they needed to, which would leave some pages blank.

Wizard diaries usually had things like different colored pages for the different moods of the writer. Or books that could self organized, with de-tachable, re-trachable pages, to keep the important events wherever you might need them. Ginny had once even seen one that folded into a very tiny square and could be unfolded to fill an entire room! This odd format of using days was something new to her. What would she do on days were nothing happened? Leave the pages blank?

Carefully, Ginny lifted the oil lamp and took both it and the diary to her desk, so she could better examine the book. It didn't take long before she discovered that she was not the first to own it. Like nearly everything else she had, this diary had once belonged to someone else.

On the very first page was the name T. M. Riddle. Ginny flipped past this to the first empty page. A strange realization came over her. If this diary had belonged to someone else, long ago, where was that persons entries? Every page—Ginny turned the book all the way to the end to make sure—was blank! Whoever this T. M. had been, he had never even written more than his initials and last name in the thing.

The strangeness only confused Ginny more. Why keep a diary if you never wrote in it? Perhaps T. M. had lost it not long after getting it? Maybe he'd only been able to write his name before it had vanished on him? Ginny didn't know, and doubted that she ever would.

In any case, the diary had come to her. It was old, but never used. Almost like the Lockhart books she had, except Lockhart—instead of Harry—had signed the inside covers, just like this T. M. person had.

Dipping her quill in some ink, Ginny was about to try writing when she stopped. She couldn't use the first page because the date in the upper corner read, Jan 1st. The thought of just how strange this diary was returned to her. What a silly idea dates were, she'd end up with a half empty book! Or a completely empty book…

Flipping forward Ginny searched for… Aug 19th, today's date, more or less. She wasn't sure if it was actually tomorrow or not. She stared at the empty page for a long while, half expecting to find words there she had missed. At last, coming to a decision she re-inked her quill and prepared to write. The previous owner had never used it and Ginny would not let this book go to waste.

'Dear Diary,' Ginny wrote in her best handwriting, 'my name is Ginny Molly Weasley.' She paused, thinking about all the things she wanted to write about. But before she could even start to consider what she wanted to say next, the words began to bleed away, fading into the paper. Ginny stared at it in disbelief. She wrote the words again, and again, they vanished.

A small knowing smile crept across her lips. She knew what was going on here. Fred and George were playing a prank on her. They had replaced her ink with vanishing ink. They had pulled this prank on her before, when she was a few years younger. She had been drawing all morning, creating pictures of everything in sight. When she had run out of ink, Fred had been happy to provide her with more.

After she finished one drawing, the previous one would vanish! The twins had found this hysterical. Their mother however, had not, nor had Ginny. And she had gotten them back with Sally's Super Sticky Super Long Sweets, a candy that effectively glued shut someone's mount for a solid week. Their mother had also not found this funny either, having to pay to get the counter sweet to un-stick her twin sons.

However, when asked what had happened, Fred and George blamed each other for the prank, even though Ginny was sure they knew it had been her. After that, the twins had called a truce with her, out of earshot of everyone else. And until now, they had kept it.

Ginny was debating how she would get them back, a curse she had read about, the Bat-Bogie Hex, seemed appropriate. But an odd thought occurred to Ginny. She pulled a piece of blank parchment and rewrote the words on it. This time they did not fade, even though she waited for several minutes.

It was not vanishing ink after all. It was not a prank. This was real. This was special. She had something before her that Ginny had never seen, or even knew existed. Her attention returned excitedly to the diary. This book had a charm on it so that only the owner of the diary could see what was written inside! All she had to do was figure out how to work it. There had to be a password or code or charm.

Determinedly, Ginny began to write everything she could think of into the pages of the diary. Each word glistened in black ink before vanishing, one after the other. But none of them seemed to have any effect. It wasn't until the sun started to rise that Ginny at last came to a halt. This was not something that could be solved in a single night.

Sleepily she moved back to her bed, setting the empty diary on her nightstand, next to her wand. As she closed her eyes and began to drift back into sleep Ginny continued to work on ways to open up the secrets in the book. Her nightmare that had woken her hours earlier was all but forgotten.

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><p>Authors Notes:<p>

First up, thank you to the two people who took the time to leave me a review! **XB16B2 **and **AnnaMariaNordlade**! Your words mean a lot to me, thank you for taking the time to give me feedback!

I hope everyone enjoyed the second chapter, I've put in a lot of time on it, having two weeks to focus and review certainly helped. I haven't made as much forward progress towards new chapters as I would have liked (still puttering away on chapter 16ish), but that's mostly been due to high demand on my time.

Conceptually, this chapter hasn't changed too much. While it exposition heavy, there is a lot to establish. Some of it still got cut way back. And there was a while where all of the wand stuff got completely snuffed out, but I liked it too much and it made it back in.

Not sure what readers will think about Ginny's wand. I put a lot of time, and research into it (and actually own a replica of it, YEAH Harry Potter World in Florida!). There is a lot of speculation about wands out there and how a wand describes the person it belongs to. I put a lot of thought into Ginny's wand, no part of it is by chance. Feel free to tell me what you think about it :D

Anyhow, back to work on stuff. Next chapter will be Monday January 1st!

~Starwin


	3. Mysterious Words

Ginny Weasley and the Riddle Diary

By Starwin

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><p>Chapter 3 – Mysterious Words<p>

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><p>For almost a week, Ginny devoted herself to cracking the secret of her empty diary. She had spent countless hours pouring through her used school books in search of answers. Every new page brought hope that she would find the right spell, then disappointment when it did not. She was looking for something that would let her reveal hidden words, find out secret things and discover the unseen. For all her effort, she had made very little progress.<p>

The problem was that she didn't know anything at all about the diary. She didn't know where it had come from. She didn't know who had owned it before, except for the mysterious T.M. Riddle at the front. The only things she knew about the book was that it was old. The pages were yellowed, their edges starting to crack.

Ginny was so focused on the diary that she had almost completely forgotten that Harry Potter was living just two floors above her. Until she had started working on the diary, he had been the only thought in her head. She didn't want to admit it of course. Not to her parents, especially not to her mother. Not to her brothers, especially not to Ron. Not to herself, well, maybe to herself.

Harry seemed less important somehow when she was working on the diary. Just the other day she had been so lost in thought she had passed him in the hallway without even a glance. He had said hello or maybe good-morning, the important thing was that he had said something to her, but she had waved him off, not even realizing it was Harry. She had missed her chance to try and start an actual conversation with him again!

No matter how much she tried to think about Harry, her thoughts kept returning to the diary. She had to figure it out. It was important that she figured it out, Ginny couldn't say why she thought this, but she knew it was. There was something in this book she had to read, something she had to know.

Still in her pink nightgown Ginny sat on her bed, legs crossed, diary open and blank in her lap. She stared at it intently as if doing this would somehow trick the diary into giving up its secrets. However, like all the other things she had tried, the pages remained blank.

A frustrated frown turned her lips, Ginny had almost had enough of trying to coax out whatever was hidden inside this stupid book! She had written everything she could find upon its pages and still nothing had happened. Thinking the diary might be low on ink, she had emptied almost her whole inkpot into the book. The paper had drunk the ink greedily, but still, the pages remained unblemished.

She had even tried removing the name from the front page. But no spell seemed to be able to erase those words, no matter how easily the book made hers vanish. About the only thing she hadn't tried was throwing the stupid diary across the room. And she was very, very, close to doing just that right now.

Taking a deep breath, Ginny closed her eyes. Mentally she rolled over the list of spells and charms she had tried. The list was not very long and she had already tried everything, some of them twice. Letting out a sigh, Ginny moved to close the diary and give up on the whole thing as rubbish. Her hands froze as they touched the edges of the book.

In the middle of the page, a single word glistened in a hand that was not her own. Ginny stared at the word, disbelief in her eyes. Had the trick been to simply do nothing? Had she been doing nothing? How did you know when you were doing nothing? Wasn't knowing you were doing nothing, doing something? Ginny shook her head, refocusing on the diary.

She read the word, once, twice and then a third time just to be sure she wasn't imagining it. It was there, it wasn't a dream. It was an answer. The answer she had been longing for.

'Hello,' said the one word. A short answer for sure, Ginny thought. Then the word began to fade, the ink absorbing back into the white paper. Ginny waited for the next word. But after thirty minutes, none came.

"Hello," Ginny said aloud to the pages. The book did not answer. She could have hit herself in the forehead. It was a book, it didn't have ears, it couldn't hear her!

Quickly she dashed to her desk, inked a quill and ran back to her bed. Black splotches dripped on the rug and sheets but she paid them no mind. In her messiest hand-scribbles Ginny wrote back.

'Hej1a,' she wrote. The word was so rushed that the 'o' looked more like an 'a'. And her 'l's were hardly passable as letters. The words shimmered black for a brief instant, than sunk into the page. Ginny waited. And waited. And waited. But again, no reply came.

Had she imagined the word? No. There most certainly had been a word. It had been there, in someone else's hand writing. Just the one word, but it had been there. She was absolutely, completely, mostly, sure that she had seen something… maybe…

Ginny did not get dressed. She stayed with the diary all morning until afternoon arrived. At last, as the sky outside started to darken, she reached down to close the diary. Her hands paused, waiting for the diary to 'speak' as it had that morning.

But even as she lifted it off her covers the pages remained empty. Ginny closed the book with a snap before finally venturing out into the house. She hadn't even taken two steps outside her door when she almost bumped right into Harry! It was his quickness that avoided the collision. Ginny stumbled, only just catching herself on the door.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked offering out a hand to help her up. She felt her face burn bright red. With an uncontrolled squeal, she tumbled back into her room and slammed the door. Her heart was pounding, she felt faint. Harry had talked to her, he had asked her if she was alright and she had nearly touched his hand!

Filled with something she could only describe as giddiness Ginny rushed to her desk, opened the empty diary and began writing furiously in it. Her words were barely legible due to her excitement.

'Harry talked to me!' she wrote. 'he actually talked to me! He asked me if I was alright and I said… I said…'

"I didn't say anything!" Ginny cried aloud. Her head crashed into her arms, all the joy evaporating away. They had been alone, right outside her room. She could have said anything, ANYTHING. But she hadn't even spoken. "He must think I'm a complete idiot!"

She looked down at the diary. Her words were already gone, and just like her, the diary hadn't said anything either. Anger flared inside Ginny. She finally did the one thing she still hadn't tried and tossed the stupid old book across the room. It hit the far wall with an indignant thud before bouncing into a pile of dirty clothing.

Ginny crawled back into bed. Her tummy rumbled at not having eaten all day. But she didn't feel like enduring a meal with Harry glaring at her across the table and thinking she was an idiot.

* * *

><p>Ginny awoke the next morning feeling groggy and sleep deprived. Her mind had been full of bad dreams all night long. There had been something, or someone, familiar in one of the dreams. But she couldn't remember what it was now that she was awake.<p>

Pulling on an orange jumper over her nightgown, Ginny made her way downstairs. Only her parents appeared to be awake. Her father was reading the Daily Prophet, a wizarding newspaper with moving photos.

"Good morning," he said pleasantly looking over his paper to smile at his daughter. "Restless night?"

"Yeah," Ginny yawned.

"Your hair is a mess!" Ginny hadn't even heard her mother sneak up behind her. Before Ginny knew she was there, her mother was waving her wand over her daughters head, causing her hair to untangle and flatten.

"Mom!" Ginny protested, trying to escape. Her mother did not pursue Ginny to the table as she sat down beside her father. She leaned casually against him as he continued to read the morning articles.

A moving picture caught her attention. In the photo a man was attempting to get his arm around a struggling boy's shoulders, so that they could smile for the picture. But the boy kept ducking and moving out of frame. The man was Gildiroy Lockhart, and the boy was Harry Potter. Ginny read part of the article.

"…most famous boy wizard in the world seen here with the most well respected and liked wizard in the world. Famous for his incredible exploits, as detailed in his many books, Gildiroy Lockhart is an exceptional…"

The article rambled on for a good four or five more paragraphs about how great Lockhart was, without another mention of Harry. Ginny was just about to close her eyes and try to get a quick nap in, when a crazy thought struck her.

"Dad," she asked.

"Hm?" came her father's reply, he was obviously in the middle of some article.

"Can I have that page?" she asked, pointing to the page with the picture of Lockhart and Harry. Her father half smiled at her.

"Of course," he said, extracting the page from the rest of the paper and handing it to her.

"Thanks!" Ginny said brightly. She got up and made to hurry back up to her room but her mother stopped her.

"Breakfast," she said, forcing pancakes and some toast onto Ginny. She wanted to protest, but she knew that look in her mother's eyes. She would not get to leave until she ate. Ginny's tummy rumbled slightly, betraying her. Resigned to her fate, Ginny made her way back to the table and sat. She ate as quickly as she could, wolfing down the food, not even bothering to use a fork.

Haphazardly she dumped the plate into the sink, grabbed the page from the Daily Prophet and raced towards her room. She had half expected to bump into Harry again. But the sound of snoring was so loud from upstairs that she guessed he was still asleep. Or, was in bed with a pillow over his head.

Reaching her room, Ginny closed her door, wishing, not for the first time that it had a lock. However, she didn't think she would be bothered. Moving to her desk, Ginny placed the page onto the wood. She pulled out a knife that she used for craft and cut out the photo of Harry and Lockhart. It wasn't perfect. But it was the first picture she had of him, even if Harry was attempting to escape from the frame.

For a long while, Ginny just sat there staring at the photo. Every now and then, she would catch a glimpse of Harry before he ducked out of frame. Lockhart kept putting on his best smile and trying to show off his good side, which seemed to keep changing.

It had been a while now since she had thought about Harry. She had been so caught up in that stupid diary that… Ginny froze. The diary. She had completely forgotten about it. A moment of guilt, panic and uncertainty washed over her. Did she still want to discover its hidden secrets?

Chewing her lip, Ginny struggled to figure out what she should do. She looked down at the news clipping of Harry, hoping this little picture of him would give her some answer. But Harry was no longer in frame, leaving only the smiling Lockhart.

She wanted to know what was in that book, she reasoned at last. And the only way she was ever going to find out was to open it and keep trying. Leaving the picture at her desk, Ginny began her search for the diary. It wasn't in either of the first two clothing piles she checked. It wasn't under her dresser nor under her bed.

After twenty minutes of fruitless searching, Ginny decided that the only way she was going to find the book was to actually clean her room. Reluctantly, Ginny began the arduous process of putting away clothing, either into a hamper to be washed, or into the dresser.

She organized her spell books, stacking them neatly on her desk, along with her potion supplies and cauldron. It wasn't long before she could once more see her floor. It had been hidden away so long that Ginny had almost forgotten what it looked like.

When she put away the very last article of clothing and there was no more anything to clean up, Ginny realized that she still had not found the diary. It was as if the book had vanished! What if, like the words, the book disappeared after a time? What if it was still in her room but simply invisible? She would need her wand to find it!

Walking over to the table next to her bed, Ginny's eyes fell upon her wand. Then, they moved over to the little black book that was sitting neatly beside it. Ginny froze, staring at the book in surprise.

It was the diary. It was on her nightstand, right next to her wand. Ginny moved slowly closer, as if the book were some kind of beast that would bite her. The book did not move, not even as she touched it lightly with her hand.

"How did you get way over here?" Ginny asked the diary, a look of puzzlement upon her face. It did not respond, for it was a book and it had no mouth.

Cautiously, Ginny lifted the book and held it as far away from her as she could, as if it were a pair of her brother Fred's most foul smelling socks. She carried it over to her desk and set it down lightly, right in the center.

For a long while she just stared at it, half expecting it to start moving on its own. When nothing did, Ginny finally made up her mind. With soft touch she placed her hand on the cover, half expecting it to burn her, or something, but nothing happened

Slowly, she opened the diary. It was still blank. She let out a sigh. Truly she had imagined the words. The diary had never spoken to her. The diary didn't think on its own. It was just a stupid, old, bo…

Ginny's thoughts crashed to a halt. She felt her breath catch in her throat. Words were forming on the page. Words she did not expect to see. A message that completely shocked her, materialized on the blank paper.

'Help me.' the pages pleaded. The ink was so faint that Ginny had to read it twice to be sure she had gotten it right. The words faded. Ginny only paused for a moment before dipping her quill into the ink and writing her response.

'How can I help you?' she wrote.

The answer did not come quickly. A minute and then two minutes passed. Once more Ginny thought the book had gone silent forever. But as she held her breath and the tenth minute arrived, the diary responded at last.

The word was barely visible on the yellowing pages. It was not untidy, but something about the hand seemed nervous? Afraid? And was Ginny imagining it, or did the book seem to be in worse condition than the last time she had looked at it.

'Ink,' was what the diary had written back. Ginny responded by upending her inkwell over the pages. However the meager flow that dribbled out of the glass hardly made a splash. She had completely forgotten that she had already emptied most of it onto the book.

Digging through the drawers of the desk Ginny found her extra ink bottle. She held it in her hand, trying to decide what she should do. This was her last bottle, and ink was not cheap. And if she used it all, how would she write in the diary, let alone make it through the entire school year?

She glanced between book and bottle. At last, it was the reappearance of the words, 'help me' that made up her mind. The next moment she was pouring almost her entire bottle onto the diary. The book drank it up as if it were life itself. She did not empty the whole bottle, but there still wasn't much left. She set the ink aside, and waited once more.

Something began to happen, to change. The yellowing of the pages began to wash away, turning white. The edges that had been torn and cracking, melded back together, repairing themselves. The book certainly hadn't become good as new, but it looked a lot less beaten up.

'Hello Ginny Weasley,' wrote the diary. This time, the answer had come much faster. Ginny felt surprised, how did the book know her name? Quickly she penned her thoughts. 'You wrote it in me on our very first night together,' responded the book.

'Oh,' was all Ginny could write back. Her pen hovered over the paper, unsure what to say next. But it was the diary that wrote first.

'I apologize that our communication took so long,' the handwriting read. 'It has been a very long time since I have written to anyone.'

'It's alright,' Ginny wrote back.

'How is it you came to be in possession of my diary?' asked the book.

'I found it, in my cauldron, it must have been inside another book or something.'

'I see. It is most fortunate that you found me when you did. It has been so long that almost all my ink had dried up.' Here the diary paused, its words still shining, obviously waiting for Ginny to ask the next question. She had one ready.

'What are you?' Ginny asked. It wasn't until after she finished writing it that Ginny realized just how insensitive these words might be. She quickly added, 'I've never seen a book that can write back before.'

'I am the diary of Tom Riddle,' responded the book. Without a voice, Ginny could not tell if the diary was annoyed with her, or simply responding to the question. 'Tom left me behind as a record of his time at Hogwarts. More than simply a story, but a voice, as it were, of himself. And together, I can show you the secrets of Hogwarts.'

'Together?'

'Yes,' wrote the diary. 'Take me to Hogwarts and I will be a friend you can carry around with you. I will be the one to listen to you when no one else will. And I will show you secrets you have never dreamed of.'

* * *

><p>Authors Notes:<p>

First up, a huge thank you to two reviews who commented on the last chapter! **WeasleySeeker** and **AnnaMariaNordlade**! You are awesome :D

And thank you readers as well! I hope you are enjoying the story so far :)

This chapter was almost titled "Ginny Cleans Her Room" but the sillyness factor was simply too high. Also "Who Let the Tom Out" was another title suggested during editing, again, it didn't quiet fit the tone of the work, but it gave me a good laugh so I thought I would share.

Almost at the last minute (Friday) I decided to pull an entire scene out of this chapter, so it got a little shorter than it was originally designed to be. What scene you might ask? Well, as I don't plan to re-include it anywhere else I can share (if you're interested)

Originally, right in the middle we got to see Hagrids expulsion from Hogwarts in a semi-flashback / dream sequence. It wasn't a bad scene, but it had a few negatives that led to its untimely removal. First, it didn't add anything to the story. Second, it slowed down the chapter pacing, which is already slower than I would like. And third, after multiple read-throughs I always groaned when I got to it. If I can't get through a scene how can I expect my readers to?

Will it ever make it back into the story, no. It's gone. Sometimes, stuff just doesn't work.

Next chapter in two weeks on Monday Jan 23rd!

~Starwin


	4. Forgotten

Ginny Weasley and the Riddle Diary

By Starwin

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><p>Chapter 4 – Forgotten<p>

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><p>What little remained of summer raced by. Before Ginny knew it, she was packing away her things into an old beat-up trunk that had once belonged to her mother. It was hard to believe that in only a few more hours she would be leaving for Hogwarts, where she would learn proper magic. And where she would be with Harry Potter… Well, not with him, they would both be there, a year apart, but in the same place. Ginny was sure she could find the courage to talk to him, to say something, anything, to him!<p>

As she packed away her belongings Ginny paused when she lifted one of the Lockhart books. Harry had given it to her, and she hadn't even bothered to open it, she hadn't opened any of them. The books were brand new and had only one previous, if brief, owner, however, Ginny did not mind. This was partly because of the books themselves, partly because of Lockhart but mostly because they had come from Harry. It was the only interest he had ever shown in her.

They had bumped into each other more than once over the summer, with little more than a passing apology. In the Burrow, colliding with other people on the stairway was common. Every time she had been too embarrassed to strike up a conversation with him. The one time she had jumped to his defense, in Diagon Alley, it had not ended well at all.

Her eyes wandered to the diary sitting on her desk. She had just started packing her robes on top of the Lockhart books when a strange sensation overtook her. It felt like the diary was calling to her in some silent voice. She dropped the robes haphazardly on the floor and moved closer to her desk, her eyes locked on the small diary.

She put her hand on the well worn leather cover. Then, in one motion she flipped the book open, sat before it and lifted her quill, glistening with ink. She was hardly aware of what she was doing until she started to scrawl the words across the empty page.

'I'm frightened Tom,' Ginny wrote in the diary. The words sunk into the paper, vanishing almost instantly. Then new words emerged.

'Why are you frightened Gin?' the book asked. The diary had insisted that Ginny call it Tom. She was fine with that, it made the person writing back more real to her. But it had started calling her Gin all on its own. She wasn't sure how she felt about that.

It was her diary now, right? She could tell it to call her Ginny, or master, or whatever she wanted… couldn't she? The strange thing was, she didn't feel like she could, and she didn't even knew if she wanted it to stop.

'Tomorrow, I leave for Hogwarts,' Ginny replied. 'And through the whole train ride I'll be sitting only a few feet from Harry! What do I say to him!'

Talk about Harry was one of her most common topics with Tom. One of the things she liked the best about the diary was that it listened to everything she had to say. Tom never interrupted or told her she was boring or foolish. He just listened and replied.

'Boys are not as hard to talk to as you have built them up to be,' replied Tom. 'Harry is just another boy, you have six brothers, just imagine him as a seventh.' Ginny stuck her tongue out, an expression that clearly said 'yuck' upon her face, at the thought of Harry as her brother.

'Tom!' she wrote back. 'I was dreaming I was snogging him last night! I don't want to think of him like a brother!'

'All right,' wrote the diary, its tone ever-cool and collected. 'Ask about him. Talk about his interests. Find out what he likes and what he doesn't.'

'How do I do that?' Ginny asked.

'It's easy Gin, start with a common point of interest. Ask how his first year at school went.' suggested Tom.

'I… I can't talk to him about that!' Ginny wrote back. 'Last year you-know-who tried to kill him!'

There was a slight pause before the book wrote back this time. 'The Dark Lord? Why would such a powerful wizard have any interest in attacking an eleven-year-old-boy?' Ginny's response took more time than usual as well.

Up until this point, the past of Harry Potter had not come up. Most of her entries had been feelings about him, or questions for Tom about how best to approach Harry, none of which she had the courage to follow through with.

'He defeated you-know-who when he was just a baby,' Ginny wrote back. 'He is really famous and…'

'What?' Tom wrote. It was the first time he had ever interrupted her. 'How could a baby possibly defeat the Dark Lord?'

'I don't know,' Ginny answered.

Her words faded away, and still Tom had not responded. Then at last, 'Show him to me.'

'Show you? Show you how?' Ginny's expression was puzzled. Did Tom want her to try and draw Harry in the diary? She could try that, but Ginny wasn't sure how accurate a stick figure of Harry would be for Tom.

'A picture will do for now,' responded the diary. Ginny did not have any pictures of Harry, until she remembered the news clipping she had cut out of the Daily Prophet. She had already packed the picture away to take with her to school. After a minute or two of rummaging through her trunk, she found it. Ginny brought the clipping back to her desk, unsure what to do with it.

As if the book had heard her unasked question, words scrawled across the paper. 'Place the picture in the diary, as if it were a page.'

It wasn't difficult to wiggle the picture into place between the other pages. The moment she had it in place, the pages suddenly began to spin wildly. Ginny snapped her hand back, as if the diary might pull it off. After a few moments, the pages came to rest, but the picture Ginny had put in the book was gone. She inked her quill again, and wrote to Tom.

'Isn't he handsome!'

'Very. I can see why you are so taken with him.' Ginny felt her checks go slightly red. 'Do you have anything else about him? More pictures or maybe a book?'

'I'm not sure,' wrote Ginny as she tried to think if Harry might be in any of her textbooks. Even if he was, Ginny wasn't sure she wanted to tell Tom. The diary might devour her other books and she had no idea how she would explain that away!

She had been able to convince her mother to get her another bottle of ink after lying that she had accidentally vanished it while playing with her wand. Ginny wasn't sure what had compelled her to do it, but she had gotten the idea from Tom.

All-in-all, her mother was not as angry as she could have been. She had already walked in on Ginny practicing with her wand once before. Technically, she wasn't supposed to start using her wand until she got to school, and then, only while in class. It was a rule that few, if any, ever seemed to follow.

Ginny had been scolded but luckily Fred and George had picked that exact moment to set off some kind of mini-explosion that drew her mother's wrath away. Although, Ginny did feel slightly guilty about lying to her mother, there just wasn't any other way! She needed ink to keep writing to Tom.

A loud knock interrupted her thoughts. She hadn't even had time to say "come in" before her mother opened the door and stuck her head in. Quickly Ginny shoved the diary under some loose papers on her desk and turned to face her mother, trying to look as innocent as possible.

"Ginny, dinner is…" her mother started to say, but then her eyes narrowed, flicking to the trunk, which now looked like it was more unpacked than packed. "I thought you were almost done packing."

"I was—I mean—I am!" Ginny stammered, trying not to sound intimidated. 'Don't look guilty, don't look guilty, don't look…'

"What are you hiding?" snapped her mother.

"Nothing!" Ginny replied much too quickly.

"That nothing better not be more magic on ink bottles. Those are not cheap and I already spent more on your wand than…" her mother cut herself off. "Come down for dinner, and afterwards, finish packing. And no more magic until you're at school!"

Her mother vanished, closing the door a little more forcefully than she had probably meant. Ginny let out a sigh and got up from her desk. She strode over to the half-unpacked trunk on the floor, looked at the mess and then abandoned it for dinner.

* * *

><p>Ginny was not certain how she had gotten to Hogwarts. The morning frenzy of departure, the train ride, even the trek up to the castle all seemed like a distant blur of memory. Yet she was here, this was definitely Hogwarts. Although she wasn't entirely sure how she knew that.<p>

Looking at her surroundings, Ginny found herself in one of the many long stone hallways. If she wasn't mistaken this passage was very near Ravenclaw. There were suits of shining armor gleaming up and down the corridor. Tapestries showed different colored coats of arms. But most prominent among the wall hangings were the blue and gold of Ravenclaw house.

She couldn't clearly remember how she had gotten here because she wasn't in Ravenclaw, she was in... Slytherin… that couldn't be right… yet, she felt it, knew it… Slytherin was where she really belonged. An odd sensation tickled the back of Ginny's brain. Something… something was wrong. Actually, many things were wrong but for the life of her, she couldn't figure out what they were.

Before she had any more time to ponder it, she heard voices approaching. Dimly, Ginny became aware that it was night time and that most of the students were down in the Great Hall. The voices got closer and she could make out some of the words.

"I have never told anyone Tom," came a woman's voice. She sounded distressed, as if the conversation at hand made her uncomfortable. Ginny's ears perked up. "And what makes you think I know anything about it!"

"Helena," replied a smooth male voice. Instantly Ginny recognized it. Tom, she was hearing Tom's voice. It was so odd not for it to be written. How did she know what it sounded like? The odd sensation she couldn't grasp returned. "You can trust me. I want the Diadem destroyed just as much as you do."

The two people came into view or rather the one person and one ghost. Quickly, so as not to be seen, Ginny scurried behind a pillar. The pair walked right past her, as if she were invisible but stopped a short distance away.

"I know Tom," the ghost named Helena replied. Ginny gasped, the boy, the handsome, dark haired boy talking to the ghost was Tom Riddle. Somehow, the voice had not connected to the body. "It's just that…" Tom stopped and smiled at her, a sly boyish grin that would have made Ginny's knees weak if she hadn't noticed that it did not touch his eyes.

"More than a thousand years you have been waiting for someone to finish what you started." Tom said coolly. "You said it yourself, no student and no teacher, could be trusted with your secret." She opened her mouth, but Tom continued. "In a few months I will not be a student anymore."

"But will you come back as a teacher, won't you Tom?" Helena asked. "Rumor is that Professor Flub is leaving after this year. I don't know what it is about the Defense Against the Dark Arts position that turns so many away." The two of them began to walk again, without considering it, Ginny left her hiding place and followed, eager to hear more.

Tom smiled again as he strode alongside the ghost. "Perhaps I might apply, but perhaps not. I would not want my teaching career to be cut so short." Helena returned his smile. "Either way, you have my word that I will find and destroy your mothers Diadem, easing the burden you have to bare."

Helena looked pensive, it was clear that she wanted to tell Tom what she knew. Ginny moved closer, sneaking up like a cat. A short distance away, armor rattled, the Ghost, Tom and Ginny all looked in the direction of the sound. There, standing against another pillar, just like Ginny, was another girl, with long golden colored hair. Also like Ginny she appeared to be listening in on the conversation. The Ghost and Tom looked at in that direction for a long while, at last Tom spoke.

"I'm sure it nothing," said Tom. His tone was convincing enough that Ginny might have believed him, had she not seen the girl standing only a few feet from her.

"Alright," Helena said at last, floating a little higher as she prepared to reveal the location. "But promise me Tom that when you find the cursed thing you will not hesitate! Promise me!"

"I will do everything in my power to make sure it never falls into the wrong hands ever again," said Tom a sinister smile in his voice.

Then he began to dissolve, the walls and the hallway too. Even the ghost shimmered away into nothingness and Ginny found herself standing alone in total darkness. Without warning she began to fall, tumbling down through infinite blackness. Down and down and down.

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><p>With a crash, she rolled out of her bed, dragging her blankets with her to the floor. Someone was shouting and pounding on her door.<p>

"Ginny! Wake up! We need to hurry dear." It was her mother's voice. Ginny looked around trying to get her bearings. She was in her room, on the floor, blankets strewn about her in a tangled mess.

She just had the strangest dream about… about something… She tried to recall the facts. Something about a ghost and… stuff… It was no good, the thought slipped sideways from her head and was gone.

Then a wave of panic overtook her. It was morning! Her mother had been calling for her to get up! She had to finish packing, she had to get ready! She was going to Hogwarts, she was going to spend a full train ride with Harry Potter!

Rushing around her room, packing turned from mostly organized to slightly controlled chaos and finally descended into sheer panic. She stuffed object after object into her trunk. Twice she had packed her wand, only to grab it out again. Each time she put something in she tried to think what else she needed. A couple things, like her favorite pillow got packed and then taken out and then repacked, before she discovered it simply wouldn't fit and removed it completely.

"Time to go!" called her father's voice from downstairs. Ginny was working to close the trunk, shoving it down as hard as she could. For a girl with mostly secondhand items she certainly had acquired a lot of junk! Her door opened and her father entered, ready to help take her trunk down to the car. He was just about to lift it when he raised an eyebrow at her.

"Uh, you aren't dressed yet?" her father asked. With startled amazement, Ginny looked down at herself. She was still in her pink nightgown. Worse, she had packed all her clothing away in the trunk!

Her father set the trunk down at her panicked insistence before she shooed him out of the room to change. I did not take her long to pick out the Muggle clothing she was going to wear to the train. When she tried to close the trunk again, it simply wouldn't shut.

Breaking down into hysteria, Ginny nearly screamed for her father. He burst through the door, his face stricken with panic. It took him a minute to sort out Ginny's jumbled words.

"It won't close!" Ginny half-sobbed.

"It… what?" her father asked. Between hiccups he was finally able to discern what the problem was. Calmly, he used a bit of magic to make everything fit inside. Then it was down to the Ford Anglia that sat waiting in the yard. He nearly broke his neck when he tripped on a stray chicken that had decided to cross right in front of him.

Harry, Ron, Fred, George and Percy all squeeze into the back seat. Harry and Ron were squished into the middle, a twin on either side and Percy at the window seat. Ginny got to ride in the place of honor, where Ron had sat last year, and the twins had shared the year before, between her mother and father up in the front.

Then they were off but they hadn't gotten to even the edge of the property before George called a halt. He had forgotten his box of Filibusters Fireworks back at the house. They turned around and he rushed back inside. Once George returned they were off again but it wasn't more than five minutes latter before Fred exclaimed that he had left his broomstick behind.

Her father turned the car around and drove a little faster than he meant too back to the house. Now they were really running late. For the third time they were off again. The car bumping and bobbing as it sped down the uneven road towards the main highway.

Ginny couldn't shake the feeling that she was forgetting something too. Not for the first time she ran over the mental checklist of everything in her trunk. Books, robes, potions, caldron, pillow—no she had taken that out, hadn't she—books, she had already counted that one, diary… DIARY!

Her thoughts crashed to a halt. She had forgotten her diary! How could she have forgotten Tom! The memory of pushing it under the papers returned to her. Instinctively she had hidden if from her mother, although she could not have said why. When she had looked to see what else she needed to bring, the diary had been concealed on her desk.

"STOP!" Ginny shrieked, making her father jump in his seat. He had been looking for an opening to get onto the main road. "We have to go back! I left my diary!"

"Ginny, we can send it to you," her father protested. Ginny shot angry daggers at her father. With a heavy sigh, he put the car in reverse, made a sloppy twelve-point turn and sped back towards the house. More than once her mother protested about her father's speed along the dirt road, but he did not slow down.

When they pulled up to the house Ginny leapt over her mother and out of the car. She scrambled up the stairs to her room and threw open the door, dashing towards her desk and stopping right in front of it, slightly out of breath.

The diary was sitting right in the middle of the desk, its black leather cover closed and silent. It was almost like—the thought was silly—it was almost like it was waiting for her. For a long moment Ginny just looked at it, her uneven breathing the only sound in the room.

The oddest sensation washed over her. Ginny didn't know if she wanted to take the diary with her after all. In fact, now that Ginny thought about it, had she left the diary behind by accident? Of course she had. Having a friend by her side all year long was something she was looking forward too. Still, there was something she couldn't place. A feeling of unease…

The horn of the car honked from below and Ginny was snapped out of her musings. Without a second thought she snatched up the diary from her desk and ran back downstairs to the waiting car, her friend tucked away in her pocket.

* * *

><p>Authors notes:<p>

First and foremost, THANK YOU! To everyone who left a review last chapter! **AnnaMariaNordlade** and **Hango**! It really means a lot to me that you took the time to write me your thoughts! (and a couple more ! just to be safe)

Thank you to everyone who came through and read this chapter! Did you like? I hope you did!

This was one of the very early chapters I envisions while working on this project. Its so perfectly set up in the book, with Ginny shouting for her diary on the car ride out. A very small glimpse of the story behind the story.

Not much else for me to talk about in this chapter. Next one will be up two Mondays from now Feb 6th!

~Starwin


	5. Girl on the Train

Ginny Weasley and the Riddle Diary

By Starwin

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><p>Chapter 5 – Girl on the Train<p>

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><p>They were practically sprinting through King's Cross station. The big clocks on the walls showed that they were late, very, very late. There was only a little more than five minutes before the train would depart, leaving them all behind if they couldn't make it. What would Ginny do if she missed the train? What would happen to her if she never made it to school? Would she have to wait another year?<p>

The station was packed with muggles, most of who seemed to be in just as much of a hurry as themselves. Ginny pushed her trolley, which had her trunk, as quickly as she could, trying to keep up with her mother. The wheels bumped and clattered at every crack in the concrete. Several times Ginny had to stop abruptly to avoid running into someone.

This was not Ginny's first time at the train station. She had come to see every one of her brothers, except for Bill, off to Hogwarts. Finally, it was her turn. She wouldn't have to just stand by and watch this time, she would be part of it! She was going to Hogwarts. SHE was going! That was, if they made it to the train.

Distantly Ginny could remember her first time here. Never before had she been around so many muggles or people for that matter. It had been strange, otherworldly. It felt that way again now, almost like a dream. Ginny moved as if in a haze, not really seeing the people jostling around her. Time flowed differently, every second racing by like time was in just as much of a hurry as her.

Ginny was snapped back to reality as she arrive at the divider between platforms 9 and 10. Her mother was already waiting for her. This spot was hidden entrance, concealed by magic, so that muggles couldn't find it. Beyond the barrier was platform nine and three-quarters and waiting for them, hopefully, was a scarlet steam-engine that would carry them to Hogwarts.

Fred, George, her father and Percy were next to arrive, her father looked slightly out of breath. Ginny smiled at him and he smiled back, looking a little tired but still cheerful. Harry and Ron were the last of them to reach secret entrance, having been cut off several times by Muggles. Ginny's mother was already giving instructions as they arrived.

"Percy first." Without waiting Percy strode through the barrier, and her father followed. "Now Fred and George." The twins went through side-by-side, without making any jokes, for once. "I'll take Ginny and you two come right after us," her mother said to Harry and Ron.

Ginny felt her mother's hand press on her back and urge her forward towards the barrier that separated the Muggle world from the magic one. Ginny had crossed though the gateway before, but somehow this time was different, special. It was like all the other times before this one didn't count, like this was the only one that really mattered.

They walked quickly without running so as not to draw undo attention to themselves. Part of the difficulty of passing between worlds was to do it without anyone noticing. Ginny did not flinch as they hit it. The trolley collided with the solid wall and passed right through the divider between platforms nine and ten. Ginny held tightly to the handle bar, watching as the front of her trunk sank into the wall. She only closed her eyes right at the last second.

The air changed somehow, smell different, cooler. The sounds from the busy station behind them were muted. Slowly, Ginny opened her eyes. Bright sunlight was streaming down onto the platform. The ground around the scarlet steam engine was covered in white mist, making it look like the train was floating on clouds. For one perfect moment, everything was still and silent, just her and the train that would carry her away to a magical world.

Her father stepped forward, and the moment was lost. He had been waiting on the other side for them. "Hurry, you need to hurry, the train is about to leave!" he motioned them on. Ginny didn't miss a step as she followed after her mother, racing towards the train.

Now that Ginny was looking properly, she could see that this side too was packed with people, but they were not muggles. They were wizards and witches, all here to see their children off to school. A small girl was crying in her mother's arms, while Ginny couldn't make out the words between her sobs, Ginny was sure she knew the reason. That little girl wanted to go to Hogwarts too. Ginny remembered the feeling of being left behind.

Unlike the inconsiderate muggles who had darted in every direction, the people her moved aside to let them pass. They reached the train in what felt like only seconds. Fred and George where waiting at the entrance to one of the rear cars. They helped Ginny lift her trunk into the train and stow it. Percy was nowhere in sight. When Ginny asked where he had gone, Fred shrugged and said something about prefect stuff.

Looking around, Ginny asked the more pressing question. "Where's Harry?" Fred shrugged again. Standing at the edge of the entrance, Ginny looked back, her eyes searching the sea of faces. She did not see Harry among them. Looking past the crowed, to the back of the platform she found her father, still waiting at the barrier. There was a worried expression on his face. Where was Harry? Had he already come through and she had missed him? Ginny started to get off the train, but her mother stopped her.

"And where do you think you're going?"

"I don't think Harry came through!" Ginny cried, standing on tip-toe, trying to get a better view. In the distance, the train whistle blew, long and shrill. The volume of chatter in the station increased as parents cried their last goodbyes.

"The train is leaving, I'm sure they got on at another car," her mother reassured her.

"But…" Ginny started to protest. The train jerked sideways, and Ginny nearly lost her balance. They were moving! The train was leaving!

"Don't worry about them, you'll see them at Hogwarts! Have a great year!" Her mother was shouting and then the rest of her words were lost in the clamor of all the other parents. Ginny forced a smile as her mother waved goodbye, she could feel tears forming at the sides of her eyes. She was going to Hogwarts. Six brothers before her and finally it was her turn. This should be the happiest moment of her life but…

"No need to cry," said the voice of Fred from behind her.

"Yeah, at least not until you have to sit though history of magic with old Binns," explained George. Hurriedly, Ginny whipped away her tears.

"I wasn't crying," she protested, her voice slightly choked. "I just had dust in my eyes." She caught Fred and George's smiling looks. Quickly she changed the subject. "Did either of you see Harry come through the barrier?"

"Harry? No," said George after a slight pause. "Are you going to ask about Ron? Because we didn't see him either." Ginny aimed a kick at his shin, which George narrowly avoided.

"I'm sure they're on the train someplace," said Fred. "They aren't stupid enough to miss the Hogwarts Express. Well, Ron might be…" he mused. Ginny's eyes narrowed.

"I believe our continued presence here is unwanted dear brother," said George in a falsely gentlemen's tone.

"I believe you are correct," answered Fred, in the same snooty voice. "Shall we go look for Lee?"

"I believe we shall," replied George.

"Oh get out of here!" exclaimed Ginny unleashing another kick at the other twin.

"Ta-ta dear sister," said Fred as the twins hurried away down the hall, leaving Ginny alone at the door. She glanced out of the train one last time at the station vanishing behind them. She couldn't shake the feeling that neither Harry nor her brother had made it onto the train.

Briefly, she considered going to look for them, but what would she say to Harry if she found him? I'm glad you're alright? I didn't think you made it? I lov… no… she wasn't going to say that. More than likely she would just go silent as always and stare at him awkwardly the whole train ride.

Frustrated with herself, Ginny began her search for a place to settle down for the long ride, preferably, someplace alone. However, she hadn't taken more than two steps when something in the distance caught her eye. Something… was rising up into the air, something blue. Something, that did not look like it should be flying.

Squinting, Ginny tried to make out what the thing was, but just as suddenly as it had appeared… it vanished! She waited a moment more, her eyes searching for any trace of whatever she had seen. And, for the briefest of moments, there it was again! It was like it had just popped out of thin air! She was sure it did not belong, sure it should not be flying, sure it shouldn't be following them! Before she had a chance to make out what the thing was, it darted above the clouds.

Ginny stood there for a full minute more gazing out the window and hardly seeing the building rushing past, but the blue something did not reappear. Frowning slightly, Ginny decided at last to look for a compartment in which to sit. Every few doors she would stop and look out a window, trying to see if she could catch another glimpse of the blue-flying-thing. However, save for some clouds, the sky remained determinedly empty.

It seemed that being the last to arrive held other problems for her. All of the seats appeared to be full. She found one compartment that had only three people in it, but two of those people were her brothers and there was no way she was going to endure an entire trip with them. She was still mad at them anyhow for teasing her earlier.

A few boxes more and she found another with three people in it. But Ginny moved past it very quickly, they were all boys, and they were all Slytherin house. One of the boys she recognized as the blond haired git who had taunted Harry back in the bookshop. Ginny had half a mind to march in and try some of her new magic on him. But that did not seem like a fitting way to start her time at Hogwarts. So she walked on.

After what might have been hours, but was more likely only a few minutes, Ginny found a compartment with only one other person in it. A young girl, her age most likely, with dirty blond hair and… were those some kind of floating plums lifting from her ears? Pausing, with her hand on the handle, Ginny contemplated about continuing her search. She really wanted to be alone, but she didn't think that would be possible unless she spent her whole ride in the corridor. Before Ginny could make up her mind the girl made it up for her and slid open the door.

"Hello," said blond haired girl brightly. Her voice was airy, distant somehow. She had a warm, odd, smile on her lips and her silver gray eyes gleamed with something Ginny couldn't quiet place. "If you're looking for a place to sit I have lots of room in here. There were some other girls that joined me at the start, but they all appeared to have vanished. I think its quiet possible that the Nergels got them."

Ginny blinked, not at all sure how she should respond to this statement.

"You're welcome to come in," the girl moved aside, gesturing for Ginny to enter. Without thinking, she did. Silently, Ginny sat down next to the window, and looked determinately out. The girl with blond hair sat across from her and stared, somewhat uncomfortably, at Ginny for a long while. At a last, Ginny glanced at her awkwardly.

"You have beautiful hair," the odd girl stated. Ginny wasn't sure the girl had blinked since she had come into the compartment.

"What?" was all Ginny could respond with.

"Red hair," the girl continued thoughtfully. "My mother used to say that red hair is a sign of luck. Some people call those with red hair the children of fire." Ginny was at a total loss for words, the only thing she seemed able to do was keep her mouth from hanging open.

"My name is Luna by the way," the girl said after a long moment of awkward silence that Luna did not seem to notice. "Luna Lovegood. What's yours?"

A Lovegood? She had heard her mother talk about the Lovegoods before. While her mother never said anything bad, she didn't seem to hold them in high regard. Ginny teetered on the edge of excusing herself and sprinting for the door. But it was only a passing thought, one she crushed with a warm smile. This girl, however odd she might be, was trying to extend the hand of friendship to her.

"Ginny," Ginny replied. "My name is Ginny Weasley." Luna smiled brightly.

"We're practically neighbors," said Luna with a distant smile. "I've seen the Burrow before… although I've never been there…"

"You should come by sometime," Ginny blurted out before she could stop herself. She looked away quickly, back out the window.

"I would like that very much," replied Luna, who also turned her head to look out after Ginny's gaze. "What are you looking for?"

"What?" Ginny asked startled, returning her eyes to Luna. Luna was still looking out the window.

"You keep glancing outside as if you expect to find something," replied Luna.

"It's nothing," Ginny mumbled. "It's stupid."

"I bet it's not," Luna replied. "You can tell me. I won't laugh, unless it's very funny."

Ginny took a deep breath. It sounded stupid in her head, but she said it anyhow. "I thought I saw a flying car, when we were leaving Kings Cross." Luna gazed passively at Ginny, but did not laugh. "And, I can't shake this feeling that neither Harry nor my brother made it onto the train."

"I'm sure they did," Luna said, nodding thoughtfully. "Who's Harry?" Against her will, Ginny felt her cheeks warm.

"Uh, my brother's friend…?" Ginny's voice trailed off.

"I see, and you really like him?" Luna asked.

"WHAT!" Ginny cried, completely caught off guard by the question. How could Luna possibly know that! Could she read minds? Was there some spell in one of her text books about reading thoughts that she had skipped over? No, that was stupid.

"You seem concerned for him," Luna continued peacefully, as though Ginny had not just shouted. "You can't hate him if you are concerned for him. So you must like him." An involuntary smile formed at the side of Ginny's mouth.

"I… suppose I do," Ginny said at last, the redness in her cheeks returning. She couldn't believe she had just told a complete stranger that she liked Harry Potter! Although, Luna wasn't really a complete stranger anymore. In fact, ever since Ginny had come into the compartment she couldn't shake the feeling that she had seen Luna someplace before, but for the life of her she couldn't remember where.

It was odd, but for some reason Luna seemed to remind her of… Tom! Ginny had completely forgotten about the diary! She reached a hand into her pocket and touched the small book, ensuring it was still there. She felt the cool leather cover and sighed with relief.

"Are you alright?" Luna asked. Ginny snapped back from her thoughts.

"Fine," Ginny lied. "I just…" a tap-tap-tap on the glass interrupted Ginny. A girl, with bushy brown-hair had appeared at their door. Ginny gazed at her in puzzlement, her face seemed familiar somehow. The door slid open, and the girl entered just a single step into the compartment.

"Ginny?" the girl asked tentatively. Ginny nodded. "I'm Hermione Granger. We met in Diagon Alley, remember?" Ginny remembered her. She was the girl hanging around Harry. "Fred said that you might know where Harry is?"

Instantly Ginny felt anger flare up inside her. Why was this girl looking for Harry? What could she possibly want with him? She couldn't be Harry's secret girl friend! As she thought it, the pieces all seemed to fall into place. Ginny had seen the way she looked at Harry, talked to him, touched him. Ginny frowned.

"He isn't in here," replied Luna with a casual aloof tone. Hermione turned a slightly startled look towards Luna as if just realizing she was there. The expression on Hermione's face was something between 'obviously he isn't here' and 'I didn't ask you', but she didn't speak her thoughts.

"I don't know where he is!" said Ginny, a little more angrily than she had meant to. Hermione seemed to get the hint.

"Oh, alright," said Hermione in putout sort of voice. "Thanks anyway, I'll just keep looking." She let the compartment door slide back into place and wandered off down the corridor.

"She's very odd," mused Luna after a moment. There was nothing else for it. Ginny began to giggle uncontrollably and Luna smiled at her blissfully.

* * *

><p>The rest of the trip felt less awkward. Luna, though very odd in Ginny's opinion was genuinely nice. No one else came into their cabin, with the exception of a plump witch pushing a trolley of sweets.<p>

Ginny had refused to buy anything, although she felt her tummy rumble a little at the thought of chocolate frogs. Luna had also declined to get anything. Much to the bemusement of Ginny, Luna had explain, in her serene voice that Carvaskis liked to live inside candy boxes and attack children's teeth when they disturbed their naps. The trolley witch did not seem to know how to respond to this.

"Also, I brought my lunch," explained Luna. The witch smiled politely and moved on, slightly befuddled by Luna. Ginny, was overcome with another fit of the giggles. "Are you sure you haven't been around and Hinklebucks?" Luna asked her for the third time.

Ginny only giggled harder. Luna had explained that Hinklebucks were tinny, mouse like creatures that came and tickled you whenever you least expected it. It was one in a long line of fictional creatures that Luna had told Ginny about.

Apparently, her father wrote the wizarding newspaper, the Quibbler. Ginny had never heard of it, so Luna happily produced one and handed it to her. Instantly Ginny knew why she had never read it. The folded paper in her hands was not a proper newspaper, like the Daily Prophet, it was a tabloid.

It only took reading the first headline to know where Luna got her wild ideas from. 'Hinklebucks, What You Need to Know' the article had a picture of something that could have been a mouse, but its head was all wrong and it had human like hands instead of paws. It was hard to tell what it really was because not only was the picture out of focus but wasn't moving either.

Ginny started to hand the tabloid back. "You can keep it," said Luna, "I have lots, my dad thought it would be a good idea for me to me to bring them to school and hand them out. He said it would help raise awareness of in the increasing number of Hinklebuck attacks." Ginny stuffed the paper into her pocket.

The light outside the window slowly began to dim into the purplish-orange of twilight. Ginny and Luna changed from muggle clothing into school robes. It was only with Luna's help that they managed to get Ginny's trunk shut again.

"So what house are you hoping for?" Luna asked as they sat in silence. Ginny had been watching the sunset out the window.

"Gryffindor," said Ginny casually. "All of my brothers are in Gryffindor and so is Har… Uh, what about you?"

"Well, I really like Ravenclaw, but I'm hoping for Slytherin," said Luna just as casually. Ginny felt her eyes go wide, her head snapped from the window to stare at Luna with something akin to sheer panic.

"What? Why Slytherin?" Ginny cried. Luna seemed puzzled by Ginny's sudden concern.

"I hear they are one of the best houses," replied Luna.

"One of the worst!" said Ginny. "I don't know why they still allow it! Only evil wizards come from Slytherin!"

"That's not true," said Luna. "My mother was a Slytherin."

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><p>Authors Notes:<p>

As always a huge thank you to the two readers who took the time to leave me a review for last chapter: **AnnaMariaNordlade** and **Hango**!

And thank you to all my readers, I hope you are enjoying the story so far.

I'm curious what everyone thinks about this chapter. It was a big moment for me when I was first laying out the story and realized that I could include Luna in it. We didn't get to meet her until book five, but Ginny already knows her at that point, indicating they had some past history.

Two more plot elements also introduced themselves, one much earlier than the second. I'll let you try and figure out which is what is where.

Anyhow… I hoped you liked it. Feel free to let me know.

~Starwin


	6. Almost Not

Ginny Weasley and the Riddle Diary

By Starwin

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><p>Chapter 6 – Almost Not<p>

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><p>Ginny didn't know how to respond to Luna's announcement that her mother had been in Slytherin. Up until that point, Ginny thought she knew that Slytherin house only ever turned out the worst, most terrible students. But Luna certainly didn't look or act like she had come from a family of evil wizards.<p>

The train jerked suddenly and Ginny was nearly thrown form her seat. The brakes screeched under the burden of slowing the train. With one last bounce, they came to a complete stop. Doors began to open all along the train. The hallway outside flooded with students in black robes hurrying this way and that. Muffled shouts reverberated through the walls as they hurried past.

Slightly desperate to get away from her new friend, Ginny stood, crossed to the sliding door and pulled it open. A wave of sound crashed into her like a physical force. Excitement filled the air as everybody darted in opposite directions, squeezing past one another in a hurry to get off the train.

"I'll see… see you later," Ginny said with a half hearted smile. Luna only looked at her, face unreadable. Ginny stepped out into the corridor and was instantly swept away in the flow of students. She wasn't sure where she was going, or even which direction they were going. The push of people all around her was carrying Ginny in its current. It was all she could do to walk and not be trampled. The next thing she knew she was standing out on the platform, train at her back.

The sky above was completely dark, the platform lit by hanging oil lamps that cast everything in a dim yellow light. If she had hoped to spot a glimpse of the blue-flying-thing, she was sadly disappointed. All she could make out above were the faint stars shining between the clouds.

With a slight shock of surprise, Ginny realized that the platform was quickly emptying. She wasn't sure where she was supposed to go or how she was going to carry her… Her trunk! She hadn't brought her trunk out with her! Ginny was getting ready to dive back in after it but noticed that none of the other students had brought theirs with them either. She was trying to decide what she should do when a booming voice drew her attention.

"Over 'ere, first years, 'dis way, 'dis way!" called the monster of a man standing at the edge of the platform. "Over 'ere, over 'ere now!" Ginny moved towards the sound of his voice, her trunk completely forgotten. A crowd of students had gathered around the man. Ginny joined them silently.

"Amazing!" said a small boy to Ginny's left. He was slightly shorter than Ginny with mousy brown hair. He lifted something up to his face. It was black and oddly shaped, at first Ginny wasn't sure what it was, but as the flash lit up the night she realized it must be a camera.

"Oi!" cried the giant of a man holding a hand up to his eyes. "No flash photography." The boy let his camera drop back down, held fast by a narrow strap of woven cord around his neck. "A'right, we got everyone?" the man asked looking at the heads of the first years before him.

"Good." He said after a long moment. Ginny didn't know if he had counted them all, or just assumed he had the right amount of people. "Right. You lot, follow me." He turned and began to stride away. Ginny nearly had to jog to keep up with him. She wasn't alone, a couple students broke out into a run as they started to lag behind. Every now and then he would shout for them to "Keep up now."

"That's Hagrid," whispered one of the people behind Ginny. "My brother told me all about him! He said that sometimes he takes students from the school and eats them!" Ginny rolled her eyes. So this big man was Hagrid, she should have guessed. She had heard stories about him from her brothers too, none of which involved him eating anyone.

They followed the man along a dim path, around a hill and finally out onto the side of a huge lake. A long row of wooden boats sat at the lakeside, their oars in the water and lanterns hanging at their bows. Hagrid didn't even stop as he strode towards the waiting boats. He stepped inside the largest of them and sat. The students all came to a stop, looking nervously at one another.

"Go ahead," called Hagrid. "Four to a boat!" The children all began to clamor for the other boats at first, each taking their own until there were none left and then filling in the empty spots. Ginny made her way to one as well, taking a seat near the bow. She slid her hand into a pocket in her robe, her fingers brushed against the cool surface of the diary. The touch reassured her that Tom was still with her. Ginny let out a sigh of relief that she hadn't somehow left it on the train.

The first person to join her was another girl. She had long brown hair, and dark tan skin. She sat across from Ginny, smiled a polite smile in her direction, but didn't say anything. The next person to arrive was a boy, the one with the camera. He didn't climb into the boat but stood just outside, on the shore.

"Oh wow!" he exclaimed as he lifted the camera to get a picture of the boat.

"Sit down," hissed Ginny. The camera boy complied, without snapping a shot sitting as far away as he could from Ginny and staring at her. Ginny tried to ignore him.

It was then that Ginny spotted Luna wandering towards their boat. She was following the furthest behind. There was a strange surprised expression on her face, as if she might have just wandered out of the woods, found them all here, and decided this looked like something she might be interested in doing just now.

"Hello again," Luna said as she climbed into the boat and made her way to the last spot at the bow. Before Ginny could reply the boats suddenly jerked forwards and they began to speed across the lake. The surface was smooth as glass and black as a starless sky. The boats hardly made a ripple in it as they sped soundlessly across. The oars appeared to be only for decoration as they did not row on their own but simply glided along with the boat. Ginny wondered how they were moving, but of course, the answer was simple, magic.

Looking over the side of the boat, Ginny glanced out at the other small crafts in the darkness. They were like an invisible fleet upon the lake, save for the glowing golden lanterns at the front of each.

Turning to look behind her, Ginny could make out a castle in the distance. Illuminated with light from its windows and bathed in starlight form above Ginny could see tall towers and huge halls. It sat on a mountain side across the lake. At first it had appeared to be tiny, but as they got closer its massive outline filled the sky.

Ginny looked down into the black waters of the lake and to her surprise saw something huge and ghostly white beneath the surface. It was massive, changing shape from enormous to slender and back again. It… it was a giant squid! And… no, that was ridiculous… but Ginny was sure… it was pulling the boats, she knew it was. Their boats continued to glide silently across the water pulled along by an enormous monster that no one else even seemed to notice was there.

Ginny was thankful that none of the other passengers in her boat tried to make conversation. She didn't want to talk to anyone else about their choice of house. The strangest sensation overtook Ginny, lasting only for an instant. It was like… like she had done this before, like she had seen this before, felt this before. Then the strange sense of déjà vu was gone.

The boats slowed before beaching themselves on the sandy shore. Hagrid was calling for them all to climb out and follow. The lanterns hanging on the boats seemed to have gotten brighter, lighting the way along the beach. They gathered around Hagrid, the castle loomed high above them and darkness pressing in on all sides.

Ginny shivered slightly. She felt cold for some reason, perhaps the trip across the lake had made her clothing damp? She ran a hand along her robe, it didn't feel wet.

"Welcome," said Hagrid, "ta Hogwarts." He lifted a great hand towards the castle. As he did a dozen stone braziers filled with fire one right after the other, lighting the way up a winding staircase that led to the castle high above them.

Ginny thought it would take them hours to climb but, before she knew it, they were at the top, crossing a torch lit courtyard. The massive shape of the castle stood tall, its windows filled with light and warmth. Two huge oak doors stood solidly closed before them.

When the students were almost at the doors, they opened, pulling inwards as if moved by magic. A figure appeared in the opening, at first obscured by the bright light flooding out into the night. As Ginny's eyes adjusted she could make out a stern looking witch in black robes.

"I am Professor McGonagall, head of Gryffindor house and Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts," explained the woman. "You will follow me into the Great Hall and be sorted into your houses."

A nervous feeling balled up in the pit of Ginny's stomach. Fred and George had told her many things about the sorting, none of which she believed. Fred said that they stuck you with a needle and chose your house depending on how high you jumped. George had said that there was a test where students had to duel Professor Dumbledore himself if they wanted to be a Gryffindor. She hadn't believed either of them.

The group began to shuffle forwards towards the entrance into the castle. Before any of them made it inside something rushed over their heads with a roar, a whoosh and a bang like a gun. One of the first years let out a cry of distress. Ginny looked up trying to find whatever it had been, but it was already gone.

"Calm down," said Professor McGonagall. Ginny found that her hand was holding very tightly to someone's arm. Luna's arm in fact. The girl smiled at her peacefully, and Ginny let her go.

A moment later a man, who Ginny assumed must be another professor, appeared at the top of the steps leading into the castle. He had greasy black hair and a hooked nose. The look on his face almost caused Ginny to grab Luna a second time.

"Move aside," he said slowly in a voice that sent a shiver down Ginny's spine. The students complied. He descended the steps moving swiftly past them and across the courtyard.

"Follow me," said Professor McGonagall and she led the students into the castle. Ginny couldn't help but look up as she entered. The great stone structure towered high above her, its windows glowing. They were led along a corridor, lit by fires burning in stone basins. Suits of armor straightened up and saluted as they passed.

Ginny was trying to take it all in. There was so much around her it was almost overwhelming. The group turned and another huge room presented itself before her. This room was packed with people, sitting in rows along four great tables. Another large table was set up at the front of the room, sitting behind it were the teachers.

When Ginny looked up, she thought at first that they were back outdoors, but that wasn't right. The ceiling simply looked like the night sky, complete with stars and clouds. Countless candles floated in the air all around the room, lighting everyone in flickering light.

Ginny's eyes came back down, sweeping across the faces of the students seated at the four huge tables. Each table sat lengthwise, seating hundreds of students, sorted by house. Ginny wondered if she would be able to spot Harry among them. The first table she found was obviously not the right place to start. Against the far wall was Slytherin, the place where the darkest of wizards got their start.

Next to Slytherin, and on her right side, was Ravenclaw, Ginny didn't know much about them, but hoped Luna might end up there instead of in Slytherin. She couldn't have said why she thought that, she hardly knew Luna, but she wouldn't wish Slytherin on her worst enemy.

The table just to her left as she walked down the center isle was Gryffindor. Fred smiled at her and whispered "Don't forget to jump" as she passed. And then against the far wall, near the windows, was Hufflepuff. Ginny almost crashed to a halt as she glanced along the Hufflepuff table. It was not the students sitting at the table that had caused this effect, it was the faces in the window next to the table.

She was shocked to see two faces pressed against the glass, looking in at her. Then the faces suddenly disappeared. She had to question if they had ever been there at all. Ginny was so distracted that she walked right into the person who had stopped in front of her.

"Hey!" the boy exclaimed as Ginny collided with him.

"Sorry," Ginny said absently, craning her neck trying to see where the faces at the window had gone to. But the windows were now empty.

"You will now be sorted into your house," said Professor McGonagall, finally drawing Ginny's attention back to the front of the hall. Professor McGonagall was holding something that, at first, Ginny couldn't quiet make out. It looked like a very old bag, but the shape was all wrong.

"Each of you will come up when I call your name and be sorted into your house." Ginny felt confused, and slightly uncertain. Was Professor McGonagall going to put a sack over their head, spin her around and shove Ginny towards a house?

Professor McGonagall called the first name. A brown haired girl approached tentatively and Ginny's worst fear was confirmed as Professor McGonagall pulled the sack over the girl's head. Except, Ginny narrowed her eyes, it didn't look like a sack. She finally realized what the thing was, it was a hat! A very old, very beat up, brown hat.

Even more surprising was that this hat could speak! Only a few moments after it was placed on the girls head did that hat proclaim "HUFFLEPUFF!"

The hall exploded with applause as the first student of the year was sorted into Hufflepuff. The clapping slowly died and the hat was removed. Then the next student went up and the process was repeated, with this girl going to Ravenclaw.

Ginny waited slightly impatiently as name after name was called. She watched as Luna went up, tried on the hat. Her sorting seemed to take longer than anyone had previously. Ginny wasn't certain, but Luna seemed to be talking to the hat. She couldn't make out her words but Ginny wondered what kind of conversation one could have with a hat?

Five minutes later, Luna was still talking to the hat and impatient looks were being passed around at every table. Finally, the hat shouted RAVENCLAW and was removed from her head before Luna wandered off to her table where she received very odd looks.

Ginny's eyes kept wandering from the front of the room to glance at the Gryffindor table. Three, three red heads of hair, not four. Ron was not there and by extension, Ginny knew Harry wasn't either. One by one, her fellow first years dwindled. Soon there were only three, Hufflepuff; now two, Gryffindor; one, Ravenclaw…

"Ginevra Weasley," called Professor McGonagall. Ginny frowned, she didn't know why she had been hoping they wouldn't use her proper name, how many people were going to poke fun at her later? Taking a deep breath Ginny moved forward. This was it. This was the moment when she would find out where she belonged. She had been waiting for this for so long…

Her steps were slightly unsteady. She had watched all of the other students get sorted and the process had appeared painless, despite what her brothers had claimed. When it finished each student had smiled with contentment at their announced placement. But every single one had looked just as nervous as she felt when they had first gone up. All except Luna, who had appeared quiet calm about the whole thing.

Stopping at the stool, Ginny took one last look at the empty window, then she looked back to the hat. What if the Hat rejected her, told her she wasn't a witch, told the school to kick her out! She supposed she would just have to find out.

Ginny took a calming breath and sat. She felt the hat touch the top of her head, half expecting it to shout FRAUD! But it said nothing as it slid down, slightly covering her ears and eyes so that the sound of the room was dulled and her vision obscured.

And then… nothing happened. The Hat just sat there on her head, motionless and silent. Ginny feared that at any moment it would be pulled off, she would be shown the door and told to leave.

Her worries were building into almost a hysterical fear when at last, the hat whispered to her. Just to her and no one else. It must have talked to everyone, not just its long conversation with Luna, although most students had not sat for very long.

"Well, well, well," said the hat. "Another Weasley…"

Ginny felt her blind panic began to ease. There was nothing to worry about, the Sorting Hat had just been taking its time to realize who she was. She, was a Weasley, the last in a long line of children who had all come to Hogwarts. All of Ginny's brothers had been in Gryffindor, so that meant that she was going to Gryffindor too.

"Not necessarily," said the Sorting Hat in a low voice. Ginny felt suddenly uneasy at the Sorting Hat's words.

_What did it mean? It hadn't… it couldn't have… answered her thoughts?_

"I did," replied the hat to the unspoken question. "I can see into your mind. I can see your thoughts, turning inside your head. I can even see the things that you don't know yet."

_That she didn't know yet?_ Ginny thought.

"Yes," replied the hat. "But most of all, I see that you are strongly divided in your deepest desires. Part of you desperately wants to be in Gryffindor, that much is plain." Ginny let out a sight of relief, but the Hat continued speaking.

"Yet, still another part of you, just as strong, longs for the house of Slytherin." Whatever Ginny had expected, those words were not it.

_Slytherin? Her? Impossible!_

"Not impossible," replied the Sorting Hat. "You have great potential, a desire to get what you want at any cost and untapped power…" the Hat's words trailed off.

"I've only ever seen one other student so divided," mused the Hat, almost to itself. "He was a tricky sort just like you. But in the end, I stand by my decision. He would have done well in Slytherin.

"However, the question is, where to put you?" asked the Sorting Hat, half to itself, half to Ginny.

_In Gryffindor._ Ginny thought as hard as she could. _Please put me in Gryffindor._

"I see, if that is really what you want, then…" whispered the hat. But another thought cut in. A foreign, alien thought that Ginny had never felt before, yet was still oddly familiar.

_**Slytherin.**_

The word echoed in her head, growing louder and stronger. _**Slytherin, **_it hissed._** Slytherin, you want to be in Slytherin!**_

"NO!" shouted Ginny aloud, clamping her hands against her head and closing her eyes tight. "Gryffindor, I want to be in Gryffindor!" Silence pressed against her ears, no voice spoke in her mind, and no sounds reached her ears.

After a long moment Ginny opened her eyes again. She was staring at the floor. Slowly she looked up, all of the students were watching her. Some were giving her strange looks, others had started whispering to each other.

"Well," said the Hat, making Ginny jump a little. "I think that certainly settles the matter." Ginny was about to open her mouth to protest, already fearing the worst, but the Hat was too quick and its shout carried out across the Great Hall.

"GRYFFINDOR!" the Sorting Hat bellowed. For a moment, nothing happened, as if the hall had gone deaf. Then applause erupted form the Gryffindor table. Other tables joined in, if somewhat hesitantly adding their muted, polite, claps. The Slytherin table just glared at her, some of them even booed.

Ginny however did not care. She, like all of her family had ended up in Gryffindor. Not in Slytherin. A slight shiver ran down her spine as the hat was lifted from her head. She hurried to the house table and sat at the end.

The stool was cleared away and Professor Dumbledore, Headmaster of the School was rising to speak. He began to talk, addressing all of the students, but Ginny did not hear any of his words. Being sorted had not alleviated the steady pounding in her chest. It had just made it worse. It was harder to think, harder to concentrate. She was still worried. Here she was, sorted a Gryffindor, sitting at their table. Yet, part of her, a very small part, felt… disappointment?

That was the only word she had for it. A feeling of disappointment. No matter how much she wanted to deny it, something inside her longed for Slytherin. Without intending to, her eyes drifted to the Slytherin table and for a very brief moment she felt disgusted for counting herself among the blood traitors that were the Gryffindors.

Shaking her head very hard, Ginny tried to focus on something else, anything else! She didn't want to look at the Slytherin table, she didn't want to think about the words the Sorting Hat had said.

She caught bits and pieces of Dumbledore's speech. Something about not going into the forest and not using magic in the halls and other stuff, but none of it held her attention. And none of it washed away the foul memories and unnatural desire to be something she was not.

Again, Ginny slipped her hand into her robes, touching the cover of the diary like it was some lucky charm. She could hardly wait to get to her room and write to Tom all about her day. He would understand her, he would reassure her.

There was applause again. Then the great golden plates that sat along the table filled with food. She was not hungry. She felt sick. She had been inches away from becoming a Slytherin and even now some part of her still wanted to be one.

"It's better than Gryffindor," said the boy sitting next to her. Ginny glanced to her left and saw a young, handsome boy with dark black hair sitting next to her. Had she spoken the thought aloud? She couldn't remember.

"What?" asked Ginny.

"Slytherin," said the boy, his glance finding the table at the far wall. Ginny's unwilling eyes returned to the Slytherin table. "It's far superior to Gryffindor. They know what magic is. They aren't afraid to explore its true powers." Ginny shuddered again and looked down at her empty plate.

"But I belong in Gryffindor," argued Ginny, lowering her voice. "I don't want to be in Slytherin." The boy sighed.

"I know, despite my best efforts," replied the black haired boy. "Well, it doesn't matter, this doesn't change anything."

"What do you mean?" asked Ginny. The person on her other side tapped Ginny on the shoulder. Ginny looked round to find a brown haired girl giving her an odd expression. "What?" Ginny asked, slightly annoyed at the interruption.

"Uh, are you alright?" asked the girl hesitantly. Ginny glared at the girl, of course she was alright, what a silly question. "Who were you talking to?"

"I was talking to—" Ginny looked back around gesturing to the boy sitting next to her, "—the boy who was sorted after me." But as her eyes fell on the spot where he should have been she found only an empty bench.

"No one was sorted after you," said the girl, her voice slightly concerned. "You were the last one." But Ginny did not hear the other girl's words. She was looking around the great hall, trying to find where the boy had slipped off to. However he was nowhere to be found, it was as if he had vanished.

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><p>Authors Notes:<p>

A huge thank you to **Hango** for your review!

And thank you to my readers, I hope you are enjoying the story so far, feel free to leave a review and tell me what you think!

I really enjoyed writing this chapter. It's gone through some changes along the way. At one point both the previous and next chapter used to be part of this one. But it was simply too much stuff.

Working hard on the next installment that, like all the other chapters so far, will post next, next Monday (March 5th). I'm up to chapter 18 on the writing end and have drafted the last chapter as well. I think I have only a few more to write before I reach the end of the first story draft. Then the editing takes over week to week.

Hope to see you next week.

~Starwin


	7. Reflections in the Darkness

Ginny Weasley and the Riddle Diary

By Starwin

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><p>Chapter 7 – Shadows in the Darkness<p>

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><p>Ginny was not interested in the rest of dinner. She tried to force herself to eat something, but her appetite simply wasn't there. Not long into the meal, the greasy black-haired professor who had passed them at the castle entrance reappeared. He looked smug, almost happy, as if he had the best news in the world and could not wait to share it.<p>

He strode up to the head table, long robes flowing out behind him and every eye in the hall watching him. When he at last stopped before the Headmaster the Great Hall went oddly silent. He leaned over to whisper something and everyone leaned forward with him trying to hear it. Professor Dumbledore did not look at all pleased by the news. His beard made it hard to tell, but Ginny thought he might be frowning.

The Headmaster nodded then stood, Professor McGonagall rising at his side. Then they followed the greasy haired professor out of the hallway, walking right past Ginny. She caught the briefest of whispered words as they passed.

"Might I suggest you expel them both…" he was saying to Professor McGonagall. They were out of earshot when she replied and Ginny did not hear her answer, but her face was solemn.

They couldn't be talking about Harry and Ron, could they? It was impossible. What could they have done that would get them expelled right at the very start of the year? No, she had just heard incorrectly. Her mind was just jumping to conclusions. Still, what required the attention of Headmaster and two professors? And where were Harry and Ron because they certainly weren't anywhere along the table.

It wasn't until the plates finally cleared that Ginny realized every other whispered word around her was either 'Potter' or 'Weasley.' She didn't dare strike up another conversation with the brown haired girl who had caught her talking to shadows, instead she asked the boy sitting across from her.

"What's going on?" Ginny asked. The boy had an uncontrolled smile on his face.

"It's Potter and Weasley!" said the boy. "Apparently they got to school by stealing a flying car! Rumor is they crashed it into one of a tower and they're going to be expelled!" Ginny gasped in horror. She had heard correctly. They professors had been talking about Harry and Ron!

"No they aren't," replied the brown haired girl. A small part of Ginny felt thankful that she could see the person sitting across the table and didn't assume Ginny was talking to thin air again. "And I don't think they crashed into anything."

"They did!" chimed in a third voice. "Some king of fighting tree! It smashed them up pretty good."

It was then that Ginny noticed the whole hall was buzzing with the news, not just the Gryffindor table. It was getting louder and louder, almost to the point of becoming overwhelming when the doors the Great Hall opened wide and brought silence. The Headmaster had returned and he did not appear happy. He held up his hands for quiet, but there was no need. Everyone was eager to here what he had to say.

"I see the excitement of tonight's events have spread like wildfire," said Dumbledore. "I wish to clarify, before the rumors become too far fetched. Both Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley are fine. They have not been expelled. However, they are both in serious trouble. I want to stress that their behavior will not tolerated. Now I wish you all a pleasant evening." And with that, the students were dismissed.

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><p>As the Great Hall emptied Ginny was swept up in the mass of students. The voices around her chattered happily, some laughing, others talking exuberantly. In the clamor one word repeated over and over, Harry, Harry, Harry. It was all Ginny could think about too, although, she kept her mouth closed tightly.<p>

Gradually, students pealed off from the group. The Slytherins went first, going left while the rest went strait. For the briefest of instants, Ginny almost followed them, her left foot taking an odd step in their direction. Her right foot however, refused and carried her back into the Gryffindor knot.

Hufflepuffs went next, going down the stairs as everyone else went up and finally Ravenclaw split off, continuing strait as Gryffindor turned right. Ginny hadn't been paying attention to where they were going almost at all. She was fairly sure that she wouldn't be able to find her way back to the Great Hall tomorrow.

The Gryffindors made another right turn, heading up yet another flight of stairs. But Ginny just went strait. She couldn't say what had compelled her to do it. Her feet just kept moving forward. And no one noticed, not even Ginny. In a few moments more, she was alone.

The hallways were dim, with only the faintest glow of light form the stone braziers that lined the walls. Ginny wandered aimlessly through the darkness, having no idea where she was going, or why. Her feet seemed to be moving on their own, carrying her towards some unknown destination.

She took a left, then a right down some stairs, another right and finally, she stopped. Before her was a very ordinary looking door. The metal plate fixed to the wood indicated that this was a girl's restroom, a crooked sign that had been hung with little care read 'out-of-order'. Perhaps she needed to use it? Even if she did, this apparently wasn't the place.

Her hand extended shakily towards the door and touched it. The wood was smooth and unusually cold. Ginny pushed and the door swung inwards silently. There was darkness on the other side and, something else… someone else. There was a person on the far side of the room, except, there was something odd about them. Without any light it was hard to tell what was wrong. Ginny stepped through the doorway and the person seemed to move towards her too.

"Hello," Ginny asked tentatively. Her voice echoed in the confined space. Ginny took another step and so did the person. Her eyes were fixed on the form moving and changing in front of her. When she was ten steps away from whatever she was seeing Ginny finally realized what it was. It was mirror, hung above a sink. And the person reflected in the mirror was herself. Ginny sighed, feeling very tired and slightly foolish.

What was she doing here? Where had everyone else gone? It was, hard to remember what she had been thinking. Why had she left the group, she had no idea where the Gryffindors stayed. At least she had found a bathroom though.

Almost reflexively her hand reached into her pocket and touched her diary. It was still there since the last time she had checked. Its cool leather played across her fingers as she ran her hand along it. More than anything right now, she wanted to talk to Tom. She wanted to read his words that everything would be ok.

As she was thinking about Tom, the strangest thing began to happen. Her reflection in the glass began to shift and change. Her face, her eyes, her hair they were all different, wrong somehow. And Ginny realized the reflection in the glass wasn't her reflection any more.

Ginny took a stumbling step away from the stranger in the mirror. Her eyes flicked to his dark hair, his eyes, the hansom features of his face. She knew this boy. She had seen him tonight. And he vanished on her.

Ginny gawked, but couldn't think of anything to say. Her legs gave an odd twitch as if they were getting ready to run. The boy smiled, but he did not speak. His reflection wasn't complete, parts of him were translucent as if she were looking through a window, not into a mirror.

"Can… can you hear me?" Ginny asked tentatively. The boy nodded. "Who… are you?" Only after she said it did Ginny think that, what are you, might have been more appropriate. The boy did not speak, but pointed at her. He was her? Ginny felt confused. Then she realized, he wasn't pointing at her, he was pointing at her pocket. With a slightly shaking hand she reached into the fold of her robe and withdrew the leather bound diary. Ginny turned it in her hands, the boy still pointing at it.

"You're the diary?" she asked stupidly. The shadowy boy shook his head, he made a kind of opening gesture with his hands. "Open it?" Ginny asked, her brain still trying to play catch-up. She looked down at the blank pages, except, they weren't blank.

There were multiple lines of words, some already fading away. Ginny had to squint in the darkness so that she could read them. 'Yes I can hear you.' Read the most faded of the lines. And then right below it was, 'I'm Tom Riddle.'

Ginny's head snapped up from the book, staring wide-eyed at the ghostly figure in the mirror.

"Tom," she whispered. He smiled at her. She reached out a trembling hand and touched the glass. Oddly, his hand seemed to do the same, like he was somehow her reflection. Their fingers pressed against the glass separating them. "It was you earlier."

'Yes,' the diary wrote back.

"But you can't speak now, can you? You have to write in the diary to talk to me, why?" Ginny asked.

Words began to answer her. 'You're emotional state made it possible for me to appear to you, and only you. To give you comfort and reassurance when you were most frightened. Now, you are calm and it is very difficult for me to appear, let alone talk.

'I fear my own time is drawing short.' The image of Tom Riddle began to crumble before her, Ginny's own reflection was becoming more prominent.

"Wait, do you know how I can get to Gryffindor tower?" Ginny asked, suddenly desperate again. Tom's image was completely gone now and when the book wrote back, it was not an answer to her question.

'Write to me as soon as you can, for I can no longer hear your sweet voice.' Ginny smiled at the words, reading them for as long as she could before they faded. Then she slipped the diary back into her robes, and stood in the darkness.

She wasn't sanding for very long before the sound of footsteps reached her ears. Quietly she crept form the bathroom, moving towards the sound. As she pushed open the door she could make out voices too. There was also a word, the word she had been searching for all day long, echoing on the trail of a half finished sentence.

"…that they didn't expel us Harry!" said the voice. Ginny knew that voice too. It was Ron! Harry had to be with him. They had made it. Somehow, they had made it! Ginny almost ran towards them, but caught herself. What would she say to Harry? Her brain whirled with empty thoughts.

Quietly, Ginny made up her mind to follow and not to be seen. Her footsteps were light on the stone floor as she made her way towards them. They weren't bothering to keep quiet, talking and walking nosily, so she doubted that they would be able to hear her.

She followed them up a fight of stairs and then another and still another. Finally the two boys stopped at the portrait of a fat woman. Ginny heard the painting ask for a password and Harry replied that they didn't know it.

Ginny kept low on the stairs behind them, listening. The two boys looked at each other uneasily, neither seeming to know what to do. Ginny was about to leave her hiding place, when a girl, with bushy brown hair came up from another stairwell. It was Hermione, the girl from the train, the girl from Diagon Alley. Ginny felt her brow furl as she talked exasperatedly to Harry.

"-someone said you'd been expelled for crashing a flying car-" Hermione exclaimed. So that was what Ginny had been seeing from the train, her parent's car. Harry and Ron had flown it here, and crashed it, and been caught. Ginny bit her lip.

"Well, we haven't been expelled," replied Harry, a weak smile on his face.

"You're not telling me you did fly here?" exclaimed Hermione, her tone icy.

"Skip the lecture," interjected Ron, "and tell us the new password."

"It's 'wattlebird,'" Hermione answered, "but that's not the point-"

Her words were cut off as the painting swung outwards into the stairway. No sooner had the door opened than the thundering sound of clapping drowned out Hermione's next words. Harry and Ron were dragged inside, Hermione paused a second, looking right at the spot where Ginny was hiding, then she looked away and hurried after them.

The portrait swung back into place, abruptly cutting off the sound from within. Ginny was left in silence once more. She sat chewing her lip before finally deciding to go in after them. There was certainly some kind of celebration going on beyond that door, she could easily sneak in unnoticed. Getting up from her hiding place Ginny walked determinately towards the hidden door. The lady in the painting smiled down at her as she approached.

"Oh, another Weasley I presume," the painting said. Ginny was so startled that she let out a squeak and jumped backwards, nearly tumbling down the stairs behind her. "I'm sorry dear, I didn't mean to startle you. I've been the guardian to Gryffindor house for a long time, I've stood watch over your family for generations. It's been a long time since I've seen a girl of your family."

"I'm the first for a long time," Ginny replied, unsure what had made her say this out loud. "Uh, can I go inside?"

"Of course," replied the Fat Lady kindly. "Once you give me the password."

"It's wobblebird," said Ginny with a weak smile. That was what that Hermione girl had said, right?

The Fat Lady smiled kindly but did not open. "Oh, I'm afraid that's not it dear."

"Twiddlebird?" Ginny asked. The Fat Lady shook her head. "Widdlebird? Can't you just let me in, I mean, you already know I'm a Gryffindor."

"I'm sorry dear, but it's not about whether I know, it's about whether you have the password." Replied the Fat Lady.

"Great, just great," Ginny said in a huff. If she had just not been stupid. If she had just gone up to Harry and Ron in the hallway and talked to them. If she had just… the portrait began to open.

Ginny took a step back, and then, she didn't know why, she move around side the portrait and hid behind it. To her surprise it was Percy who emerged. He glanced left and right, but not back to where Ginny was hiding.

Then he hurried off down the stairs. For the briefest of moments, Ginny considered tailing him, to see what he was up to. But, as the portrait began to swing closed, she made her decision and darted inside.

The room on the other side was packed with people. The applause had stopped, but the chatter had not. People were talking and laughing. Ginny squeezed past them. She didn't see either Harry or Ron anywhere, but that didn't mean they weren't here someplace.

She was just making her way around an armchair and towards the stairs at the far end that had to lead to the dormitories when she heard a familiar voice that gave her pause. It was Hermione. She was talking to Fred. Ginny stopped to listen.

"I was just so worried about him!" exclaimed Hermione.

"What's to be worried about?" Fred replied. "He's done lots of dangerous stuff before."

"This is different," said Hermione. "He could have been killed!"

"I think you have a secret crush for him," answered George, popping out of nowhere to join the conversation.

"I… I do not!" Hermione cried, but Ginny noticed her cheeks going slightly red.

"Harry and Hermione flying on a broom, kissing in the moonlight…" George began to sing. The conversation ended abruptly as Hermione stormed off. "Don't let Ginny know you're out for her boyfr—ouch."

Ginny kicked Gorge hard in the shin. Her eyes were glistening with beginnings of tears.

"Jerk!" she shouted at him as he grabbed his shin in pain.

"Ginny!" cried Fred. She turned on him, anger flaring in her eyes, and he backed off. Then she whirled and left the room, on the edge of collapsing into tears.

She found her room, a small silver placard next to the door with her name on it. She didn't even glance at any of the other names as she made her way inside and collapsed onto her bed. Grabbing a pillow she buried her face in it and began to cry. Ginny hadn't bothered to check if anyone else was in the room and she didn't care.

It was true. Hermione was Harry's secret girlfriend. Fred and George knew, and they had been laughing behind her back all summer about it. Did Ron know? He must! She hated them. She hated them all.

Whipping tears away on her sleeve she pulled out her diary and began to write to Tom. She told him about how she had left the diary behind, and that she was so sorry. She told him about the train, and the boat, and sorting. And she told him at length about what she had overheard at the party downstairs.

'No one's ever understood me like you, Tom,' Ginny wrote. 'I'm so glad I've got this diary to confide in.'

As she wrote her other roommates began to trickle in. A blond girl, who had said her name was Bethica Sands was the first to arrive. She was carrying a small black cat under in her arms. Bethica smiled at Ginny and the cat struggled for a brief second before the girl let it go. Then it vanished under a bed and with a shrug, Bethica took the same bed that her cat had claimed.

The next girl to arrive had very short, strait, black hair with brownish skin and said her name was something… something… Ginny hadn't listened to her. Apparently she already knew Bethica thought because the two of them started talking almost at once. Ginny only glanced at them briefly and then down into the darkness under Bethica's bed where a pair of green eyes were watching her.

Ginny returned to her diary, trying determinedly not to listen to the conversation at hand. It was very hard to do, because the conversation seemed to be about Harry and how cool he was. Ginny kept her mouth closed. If she let it slip that she had spent all summer with Harry, what would they think about her?

The third and final girl, as there were no more beds in the room, to join them had brown hair and who looked vaguely like Hermione and whom Ginny instantly disliked on principle. She joined the other two girls in conversation, giving Ginny only a passing glance.

The three girls talked together for a long while, but Ginny did not join them. she continued to write in the diary, as if compelled to retell her whole day in detail. It wasn't until very late, that Ginny finally put the book down. All her room mates had gone to bed. Yawning, Ginny set the book on her nightstand, closed her eyes wondering briefly if the cat was still watching her.

* * *

><p>At first the walls were unfamiliar. The ceiling oddly shaped in a great arch that reached into the sky. No, Ginny realized. The ceiling was the sky! She was back in the Great Hall. At the front of the room a girl sat on a stool with the raggedy hat atop her head.<p>

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat. She was back at the sorting, standing in line amongst the other first years, waiting to be sorted. Except, something was wrong. The professors were wrong. This couldn't have been her sorting.

The line of first years moved forwards as the next student went up to be sorted. Faceless students sat at the tables, their empty eyes watching them. In fact, every face in the hall seemed fuzzy, out of focus somehow, except, for the boy standing next to her. He was small, dark haired and looked slightly uneasy.

Ginny recognized him. Tom Riddle. But he was not the same as the last dream, nor the shade that had appeared in mirror. He was the youngest he had ever been. This was his sorting, Ginny suddenly realized. This was him when he had first come to Hogwarts! They moved together as each name was called and the line advanced forward.

"Tom Riddle," called the old man holding the sorting hat. Tom walked forward and Ginny followed him. The hat came down upon his head and Ginny gasped. She could hear the hat as it spoke to him.

"So…" said the Hat, its voice a whisper. Yet, something about the voice was, wrong. The tone was too high-pitched, the words, more like a hiss. "You have come at last." Ginny did not hear Tom's reply. "Long have I slept and awaited you're coming."

Tom looked as confused as Ginny felt.

"Do you not know?" asked the voice that did not belong to the Sorting Hat, yet echoed from it all the same. Tom shook his head. "You are my heir to Slytherin house." A smile crept across Tom's lips.

"I am within the Hat," answered the voice to Tom's inaudible question. "A fragment, concealed. A message left behind. The voice of the great Salithar Slytherin. You are my heir. Destine for greatness beyond all others. I have left a legacy for you. Find my chamber of secrets and your true fate will be revealed."

Then the next words were in the Sorting Hat's voice, loud and for everyone to hear. SLYTHRINE!

* * *

><p>Authors Notes:<p>

A big thanks to **Hango** for leaving me a great review and for reviewing every chapter!

And thank you to my readers for reading!

Well, I'll cut right to it. The response to this story has been… underwhelming to say the least. While it wasn't unexpected it is, depressing. As such, I've made the tough decision not to continue with this work. It takes a large amount of time on my part (writing and editing) and I'm simply not having the fun I should be with it. And since I'm doing this to have fun, not having it seems silly.

There is always the chance I might come back and finish this story later, who knows. I have nearly completed writing it (some chapters more final than others). But the drive to finish it (and edit it) is simply gone.

So yeah… this is it.

~Starwin


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